Stages of his Life
by tear dropxo
Summary: All Ace wanted was just some answers, but it seems there are some he'll never get. (If you cannot handle anything from major depression to self harm to just down right weird madness, you shouldn't read it)
1. Insanity

**Insanity**

* * *

It was cold and dark when Portgas D. Ace was admitted.

The doctors and nurse attending the ward fussed about, bandaging his arms and scolding him until one came and whisked him inside a room, tugging him under the bed covers and wishing him goodnight. Even from where he laid he heard the unmistakeable sound of the door being locked.

He found it was cold.

Lonely.

He glanced about the room, meeting stacks of books piled at the corner and empty cupboard nobody must have used for years and a desk that seemed as lonely as him, shoved at the end of the room like that. Abandoned.

Ace blinked and crawled away from the bed, canting his head around the dark room before he padded down the floor and trying for the door that clicked under his soft hand, slightly surprised that the lady didn't lock it like the many other nurses he had seen do. Or maybe the door was old and broken. Too old and broken to be locked. With a firm nod, Ace walked down the corridor quietly, not wanting anybody to notice him wandering about. Grandpa always got mad at him for that. But Ace needed to see him. Needed to find him. Before the dark thoughts came again.

Soon after he rounded the corner, he heard the unmistakeable sound of footsteps behind him. He turned and felt a warmth nestle in his chest, puffing the bad thoughts away. He had always like the smiling face of little Luffy. But he recognised something else inside the black pools of his eyes. It was something sad, something like deep melancholy.

"I'm glad I found you! I thought they were taking you away forever."

"Stupid. I've told you I won't leave. Not like the others." Ace heard himself mutter, sneaking bandaged arms around Luffy, feeling him relax in his embrace and subsequently the tension from his own shoulders ebbed away too.

He never liked seeing Luffy like this. He has been wandering around for a long time, looking for friends and companions. Someone that would be there for him and Ace promised he would be that person. No matter what those bandages around his wrist were constantly screaming.

Ace would be there.

And if that meant ignoring everything his Grandpa said and taught him, he would do so. He would ignore those annoying Doctors too and their _insistence_ that Ace was _out_ of his _mind_.

But Ace knew he wasn't seeing things. It was Luffy right there in his arms. It was Luffy, and he was _real_. _So real._ Ace hugged Luffy tighter until he slowly let go.

"So where have you been this time?" Ace asked after some time they waded through the empty corridors. Ace canted his head several times, but never caught glimpses of anyone or anything. No lies. No silent footsteps echoing from other wards.

"What do you mean? I've been here all along." Luffy asked and titled his head as though he was deep in thought, but then he nodded, confirming what he said with a thick frown. "Yeah, I've been here waiting for you all along."

Despite what Luffy said, Ace was sure he sneaked into Grandpa's compartment again. Rode with them on the way to hospital and followed them all the way to this ward. It was crazy. But Luffy was crazy. If Ace had learned anything by being with Luffy, it's how unpredictable and illogical he was. But Ace knew best that Luffy would do anything from keeping himself lonely-free.

Even if it meant facing death.

Ace honestly doesn't want to know who lies on the other side that Luffy is so desperately, so _keen_ to meet again. Whoever it is, Ace had deep hatred for that person. Dying like that on Luffy is unforgivable.

But Ace was glad. Super glad he met him then. He honestly doesn't want to think about what would have happened if Luffy went ahead and jumped down that building.

He tightened his hand on Luffy, who looked back at him owlishly but smiled anyway and swung their hands back and froth. Ace sighed and threw him a wane smile. He really doesn't want to think back on it. Back at what he would have done too, if he hadn't met Luffy at that time.

"I think the roof is left open. Should we go watch the stars?"

"No." Ace shook his head with a frown. "No roofs for you."

Luffy had the nerve to throw his head back and laugh. "It'll be fine. They won't catch us. I won't be too loud. Promise."

Ace shook his head still. Half annoyed that Luffy never understood that roofs and him were a bad combination. It bubbled memories up in his mind he spent a large deal forgetting about. When Luffy started to pout and his face saddened, Ace relented but not in the way Luffy liked— he always said he looked like an old man if he does that. Ace frowned but tugged his hand lightly, moving to round the corner. "How about we raid the kitchen instead?"

Luffy's face lightened, much more than before and Ace was sure he was thinking about the large amount of meat he'd get his hands on. Ace stifled a laugh when Luffy crawled inside the fridge and threw whatever wasn't meat or edible in his standard away. Ace watched amused, sitting at the counter and sipping from the cola that Luffy threw away too, wondering a little bit, how hungry Luffy must have been. But just a little bit. It didn't take long for Ace finish up the coke and join Luffy to eat a fair share of meat before Luffy had the chance to inhale it all up.

Luffy glanced at him surprised, perhaps not expecting company near the fridge and Ace snorted at the absurdity of his expression, whacking him over the head. "I'm hungry. What else are you wanting me to eat?"

Luffy pointed at a stray loaf of bread near some spread cheese and Ace made a face, wrinkled his nose in distaste whilst Luffy broke into an ecstatic smile that Ace could only barely mirror.

Maybe it was his half annoyed expression that Luffy always found funny, or maybe Luffy noticed his half smile and laughed brighter, lighter than before and extra bright for Ace too. Ace wasn't sure. Well, not completely sure. He never really knew with Luffy. But Ace heard him laugh that endearing _Shi Shi Shi Shi_ again that Ace hated so much.

But Ace couldn't help smiled fondly too. Whether that was because of the flicking warmth burning inside his chest, or Luffy's funny head that was meat streaked and had sauce dripping down his chin with his hair sprinkled with cheese, he'd rather not think about. He pictured this moment as a memory instead, filing it in a special place inside his mind and cherished it, knowing already that these small moments wouldn't last. But he didn't dwell on it and stuffed his face with another piece of meat.

To hell with what everybody else thought. Ace was going to live his life the way he wanted.

Even if it meant including Luffy in his life, and making his Grandpa and the Doctors hell bent mad.

Ace simply didn't care.

* * *

Ace woke up to meet a very _angry_ Grandpa. He was furious. Livid. Raging for blood. Ace watched him confused despite blurriness of his vision. He didn't understand why he was angry nor did he particularly care. But he was pretty sure he'd be in the receiving end if they didn't placate the old man soon.

With a yawn, Ace rubbed the sleepiness away from his eyes, slowly blinking to watch his Grandpa again. The Doctors were trying their best to keep him away from him, and Ace couldn't help but be confused. But since it was Grandpa, a tight hug and a soft spoken _I love you_ would cast all bad spells away and he'd be happy again, at least enough to be throwing Ace in the air in roaring laughter. Ace knew how much these words made Grandpa happy, although he didn't understand why. Ace always thought they were meaningless words.

He slowly rose and threw the covers away only to noticed he was tangled in chords, tubes and what not. Ace blinked and glanced around, watched the beeping machinery in the room connected to him.

"What?" Ace almost didn't recognised his own voice. It was hoarse, so rasped, so _deep_. He swallowed only to realise how parched his throat was. A nurse slowly pushed him back down and rose the covers up. A glass of water in her hand she didn't hesitate giving him. In a matter of seconds his Grandfather was hovering above him, gently ruffling his hair and muttering that it'd be okay. That he was alright. Ace didn't understand. He was okay. At least, as far as he knew. But he couldn't trust his own judgement. Not with how distraught everything was.

"What happened?" Ace asked, it was way better than assuming anyway. But when something flickered across Grandpa's face, Ace couldn't help but frown. Maybe he was better off not knowing. The last time Grandpa looked so stricken, he had almost killed him. Ace remembered vaguely that Grandpa had blasted Dadan's kitchen up and set their house on fire. How that was possible, Ace had absolutely no idea. But he remembered hating his Grandpa's absurd will to prepare a festive feast to celebrate Father's day. And Ace hated his fate to turn him out to be the only one catching carbon monoxide poisoning whilst the others got away with simply smoke inhalation.

So Ace liked to think it was only natural and fully acceptable to fist his covers in his hand and raise it to his face, chuting away from his Grandpa. But not too damn far away apparently. His Grandpa still managed to ruffle his hair and grin all too wide. Ace couldn't help but think that there was _still_ something wrong with it.

"Don't you worry. Grandpa got everything under control. I'll find that punk that did this to you."

Ace didn't understand. He did this himself, didn't he? But perhaps that didn't exactly matter. Maybe Grandpa didn't need to know things he wouldn't understand anyway. He looked across the room, ignoring the chatter among the adults and looked for a familiar pair of owlish eyes that he couldn't find. "Nee, Grandpa? Where's Luffy?"

The chatter halted.

Ace saw the adults give another confused glances and caught Grandpa glancing at him uneasily. But even form that flighty glance, Ace could see the conflicting emotions bubbling inside his onyx orbs before his Grandpa shifted his glance and moved to glare at the Doctors. "I thought you said his head was alright."

"His head should be alright. Although he might be slightly concussed, the moment of impact hadn't been severe enough to cause him major head injuries nor to have affected his mentality in any way. He was lucky, you might even say." one of the Doctors said, looking at his clipboard before glancing at Grandpa. "Are you sure the name Luffy doesn't sound familiar to you?"

"Of course it does!" Grandpa's eyes narrowed for a moment. Ace could see the worry and hesitation forming in his eyes afterwards. "But Ace couldn't have known Luffy."

"Of course, I know Luffy!" Ace corrected and frowned at Grandpa's weird choice of words, turning to look at the elder with narrow eyes. "Why wouldn't I know my friend?"

Something flashed across Grandpa's face too fast for Ace to discern, but he still liked to think it was a strange mix of pain and exasperation— _strange_ , just like his Grandpa. When the elder moved to rub his hand across his face, sighing deeply so much it seemed to drain the life of him, Ace thought he couldn't be far off with his deduction. But he listened quietly, despite the confusion his Grandpa's words arose in his mind.

"I know it pains you, Ace. But you need to stop. It's time to let go. He isn't here anymore. Luffy is. . .gone. "

Ace stared. Was the old man becoming senile? He shook his head. That couldn't be it. Maybe he had just forgotten. But how could he forget his own Grandchild? Ace fisted the covers tighter in his hand, now determined to make his Grandpa remember the tiny boy with his funny hat. "What are you talking about? Luffy didn't leave. You even saw him the other day. Can't you remember? you even threw a fit because he ate your sandwich."

The confusion in Ace couldn't be topped anymore by Grandpa's pained expression. Was he feeling sad? Was he upset? For all Ace knew, the elder didn't hit Luffy too hard to feel apologetic. He never did after all. Besides, Luffy had only gotten a bruise and a couple of scratches from struggling. It wasn't all that bad. Ace had taken care of him after all, bandaging him up and all. "I know you two had your disagreements Grandpa but you shouldn't say he doesn't live with us. It's rude. It's mean. And he's gonna cry again if he hears you say that. I definitely don't want to deal with that."

A crying Luffy, was a heartbreaking Luffy. Not to mention that once he started bailing his eyes out he wouldn't stop. He won't shut up and it always got super annoying. Especially when Ace starts to feel like he wanted to join him in his misery. Ace glanced up when he noticed that the adults quieted down and observed him with contemplating glances.

"What?" Ace barked out and throws them a challenging look. "I'm not dreaming this up."

Ace honestly didn't like they way they are looking at him. So worried. Saddened. Confused.

 _So pitiful._

"I'll show you." Ace gritted his teeth and threw the covers away, plucking the tubes away from him, and the nurse next to him panicked and grabbed him to keep him still, shouting over the shoulders some rubbish Ace couldn't careless about. "I'll get Luffy and show you that he exists! I'll definitely show you so _let me go_!"

Ace kicked and punched at anybody that dared to get in his way as he wrung himself out of their grasp and fought to get out of the bed but he didn't get far. One punch, packed with love, from Grandpa sent him immobilised on the bed, howling in pain. He snarled and glared, clutching his head tightly. "Damn you Gramps! Just let me go!"

"Calm down, Ace. You can show me your imaginary Luffy after your injuries healed! Until then you're bedridden, is that clear?"

"Luffy isn't imaginary! I wasn't dreaming!" Ace voice was closed to hysteric. "He was here! _We raided the kitchen_ _last night_ _!_ "

"LAST NIGHT YOU WERE UNCONSCIOUS, YOU STUPID BRAT!" A voice roared and the door banged the door open, and Dadan barged into the room in big strides, speaking heatedly despite that Grandpa was still inside the room, and would probably intimidate her into a pulp for the harsh words she was throwing at him. "What's the matter with you? _stirring up such a commotion!_ You should be grateful that they even bothered to fix you up. Can you even begin to fathom how much trouble you have caused _them_? Caused _us_? You should be kissing our feet in gratitude that we even bothered to save someone like you! A useless, selfish brat like you!"

" _Dadan_!" Grandpa's voice was firm and stoic but never once did he refute her words. "This is not the time to be lecturing him. He just woke up."

Ace didn't know what to think. His thoughts were a matter of snippet fluttering out of his reach. And he blinked against the rising headache throbbing against his eyes. Completely sure that Grandpa and Dadan and much like anyone else in this room was bonkers. Of course did Ace raided the kitchen together with Luffy, how can they assume anything otherwise? Ace certainly had the memories so it must have happened. It must be true.

He didn't particularly care that Dadan was mad out of her wits. She always was. Whenever he gild the blade to his wrist, she never cared enough to stop him. Ace trailed his fingers down his arm in remembrance, fingers sliding to his wrist, feeling the. . . .soft flesh?

Ace blinked and looked down. Where were his bandages? Where were his scars?

Just what the hell happened?

What the hell did I do?

" _What did you do?_ I tell you what you did!" Dadan was nearing him again, and Ace noticed he must have said it out loud. From the corner of his eyes he saw the Doctors cowering away from her. "You've never listened to me!"

"What? I never listened?" Ace juggled that idea into his head. Frowning, when he found nothing to prove that ridiculous accusation. _Of course_ , he listened. He had _always_ listened. Had always bought food from the supermarket whenever she shouted. Cleaned his room whenever she forced him to. Even _cooked_ whenever she was (apparently) too tired to do so. His feature darkened into a scowl. "What are you talking about, you barbarous hag! I _did_ listen to you!"

"No, you've _never,_ you damned brat!" she screeched back, her deep voice nowhere recognisable as her vocal tone fluctuated to an unusually high-pitch sound, screeching into Ace's ears and quaking avalanches of throbs pulsating into Ace's head. He groaned. "I told you to say away from that _horrendous_ life-style! Told you to stay away from those _people_! Those _h_ _ooligans_ _!_ But never do you listen to me, you brat! And see what you got from it!"

.

.

.

Ace stared at Dadan, rubbed his eyes and stared back at her, but no—no other head was growing on her body. His eyes were alright. Head properly functioning.

 _I knew it wasn't me that's crazy._ _It's Dadan that has some screws loose._

But Dadan only gnashed her teeth at his silence. But before another rage-led spewing fit could ensue, another voice spoke up.

"Dadan, not now. Ace needs to rest."

It was Grandpa, speaking with an amount of firmness that sounded strange coming from him, but Ace could hear the curiosity mounting underneath each word. Grandpa obviously wanted to continue this conversation and Ace didn't see why not.

"No need. I'm fine."

"You're _injured_."

"I'm not." Ace rose his arms and wriggled his fingers. "I'm fine. I don't feel pain."

Silence.

Until—

"How can this be?" Grandpa muttered, watching the Doctors squabble about, unravelling Ace's bandages, reaching across his back and legs in haste. But indeed, just like Ace said. He was fine.

No injuries. No burns. No surgery scars.

No anything.

"This shouldn't be possible...?" one of the Doctors muttered in awe. But Ace didn't entirely get what the deal was about. He pulled the covers to himself. Not liking at all the way they stared him and his exposed skin. He wasn't a research project nor a test object. He hoped the scowl he gave them made as much clear and Ace relaxed slightly when they tensed and looked away from him.

A nurse stared at him fairly sceptical. "I knew something was off from the moment you trashed on the bed. No normal patient could move like that after surgery. Regardless of how many weeks you've slept through."

Ace just scowled again and that just shut her up. He smiled satisfied. Maybe he should do that more often. . . .

"That's my Grandson!" Grandfather barked a laugh and patted Ace back. "Now that you're healed we might as well take you back home!"

A Doctor cleared his throat. Ace was surprised he hadn't notice him before. He looked a lot younger than the other doctors. "I'd like to make a couple of tests first. To be sure he's completely healed, of course." he added when Grandpa started to frown. But before the old man could agree, Dadan intercepted.

"He'll come for check ups. That should be enough." She gave the Doctor a glare and he nodded, secretly smirking, and the moment Dadan moved toward the door, it widened. But when she halted on the door way, Ace was surprised to note that the smirk was gone and replaced by a cold expression on the Doctor's face. Ace was fairly suspicious but before he could dwell on it, Dadan spoke. "I'll get the front door and the car ready for you."

The door slammed shut.

Silence.

"You have five to ten minutes to look him over." Grandpa muttered and left the room as well with a firm bang. Ace blinked and glanced around. Now it was only him and the Doctors that were quick set up new machinery across the room and dismantle the previous ones with speed Ace difficulty keeping up with.

"This will sting, Portgas-ya." Ace turns to see a younger Doctor slowly nearing him with a thick needle or was that syringe? Ace frowned but it soon turn out to be a blink when he felt himself growing heavy. Weary.

When did he—?

Before he slumped and succumbed to deep sleep a second time, Ace caught a glimpse of the Doctor's sharp smirk and dangerous twinkling eyes.

"You're under my care now."

* * *

" _What did you do to him—!?"_

Hot.

Ace shifted, turned, twisted.

Hot. Too hot.

" _The procedures went out of hand, it seems. Worry not—"_

Ace rolled over with effort. The sheets were sticky. Too heavy. He moaned and fought the sheets away from him. But it came back. And engulfed his whole. He stretched his head, taking in a sharp breath. The covers were sticky. Hot. Trapping him in place. Taking his breath away.

"— _You gave him too much!"_

Ace moaned. So hot. So sticky.

"— _It's just some medication. He'll just sleep awhile longer."_

Cold hands touched his forehead and Ace fought against it. Turned his face away. Whining under his breath and pushed the sheets away. Turning, twisting.

"— _Can you even call this sleeping!?"_

The sheets came off and cool air wafted his cheeks. Cold. So cold.

But he liked it.

Until he started to shiver.

" _Would you would do something…!"_

Something pierced his skin.

Ace moaned. Felt heavy. Felt limp.

But the cold went away.

It was comfortable.

Warm.

Ace turned his head and fell asleep.

* * *

Ace was sure that Doctor—no, that Surgeon _Law—_ done it on purpose. Injected that stuff in him that had him asleep for three days extra and bedridden for two. For safety precautions, he said with that awful smirk. Ace muttered curses under his breath. That mutt did it on purpose. Absolutely on purpose. And the lady in front of him wasn't helping his cause. Ace glared. Hard. "And why am I here _still_?"

As far as Ace knew he could have left when he first woke. And that was _f_ _ive_ days ago.

"As I said; _it's for_ _safety precaution._ I have answered this question for the last twenty minutes. I've had enough." Kalifa said with the same fierceness, adjusting her glasses as a sign of finality and turned back to her papers. Ace snorted and crossed, leaning back against the many, plushy pillows the nurses had taken the pain to arrange this morning and glared at her.

"That's because you keep giving me the same answer." Ace retorted right back. "I want to know _why_ I'm here, not the _benefits_."

Kalifa rose her head, the glasses were barely covering up the burning fire sizzling inside her eyes as she stressed for the last time, pen snapping in two. " _Safety_. _Precaution_. That's all you need to know."

"I'm not satisfied." Ace glared. She glared right back. At least until she lowered her papers onto the table and glanced left and right across the room. Ace interest perked up and he leaned closer to her, offering his ear when she whispered:

"Garp-san will fill you in."

Ace sank in his bed dejectedly. "You got my hopes up for nothing."

Kalifa smirked, just like the way that Law did before, and Ace knew that there was more to it. Knew it was related to his unreasonable overstay at the hospital. Knew it was related to Law over-injecting that stuff to him. Knew it was related to why Kalifa was tight-lipped and stingy with information. And he hated to know that the information was just out of his reach. Ace hit his head against the headboard, asking for the umpteenth time. "And just why am I here _still_?"

"I just told you; _precautionary measurements_."Kalifa was seething. Despite her cool demeanour, Ace knew inside she was seething. The papers in her hands were crinkled and her jaw was set tight. Ace waited for her to rage, knowing she'd be ready to palaver everything he wanted to hear but Kalifa kept her mouth shut in a taunt line, apologising and muttering instead that she let her anger get the better of her. Ace watched annoyed but fascinated when her facial expression became _frigid_.

"So you won't tell me anything?"

She didn't even give him a glance. Nor even a sign of attentiveness. She wasn't even listening to him anymore. Ace asked again, and then again. But Kalifa ignored him. But if she thought Ace would let the matter drop just because of that then she was greatly mistaken. If Ace had one thing going for him then it was his tenacity. Once Ace set his eyes on an objective then he will definitely achieve it. Be it at the cost of a broken leg or a severe concussion. It didn't matter. Ace will get his information no matter that. And Kalifa was on her way to experience it first hand.

"Is that so? Yeah?" Ace said challengingly, kicking the blankets away. Kalifa was still not responding, but that was fine. Ace saw her secretly glancing at him. But that didn't stop him either. Without further ado, Ace walked passed the floor scattered game consoles towards the open window.

By the time Kalifa realised his intention, the frigidity melted away from her expression and was replaced by pure horror. She jumped up from her chair, bolted toward him, stretched her arms out to catch him, to _reach_ him-

But it was too late.

Ace jumped.

And after a moment there was a _crack!_ Doctors and nurses rushed out of the hospital to aid him. Bystanders rushed towards him to gawk in unmasked fascination, and all the while Kalifa kept her position by the window, frozen by horror at the sight in front of her, but most of all the thought of Garp's reaction shook her to the core.

 _I was meant to protect him._

She lowered her arms and cursed Ace's inquisitive nature. Now, they had to tell him. Kalifa thought as she gazed bemused at the photographers gathering from afar. But not if she could change that. Kalifa turned and ran out of the room, phone in hand, already dialling herself out of this mess.

 _I just hope I won't lose my job._

* * *

Ace woke up to a foul mood and severe a pain on his arm. It was broken. Casted up. Probably by Law. Ace made a face and banged the door shut. It wasn't like he didn't expected that. On the contrary, the young Surgeon and his armies of Doctors were the only ones that were treating him. Ace really wanted to know why, and he couldn't help but smirk, knowing that he will get his answers now.

It was a matter of time until the news reach Grandpa and knowing him he would barge

head first in here, violently inquiring about the depth of Ace's _insanity_. Just perfect for Ace to question his Grandpa's motives as well.

Ace banged another door shut. What was that old man even thinking, ordering the hospital's personnel to keep watch on him around the clock and not even bothering to explain _why?_

But what annoyed him the most was that all the while Ace was stuck in his prison, Luffy never bothered to show up. Not even _once_.

 _(He's sick of you.)_

A slick voice muttered and Ace snarled in response, looking down through another door, meeting surprised and confused glances but no owlish eyes. No straw hat. No Luffy. Ace banged the door shut and tried the next door.

Where could he be? Ace already tried the kitchen. The common room. The toilets. Ace could only think that Luffy got lost somewhere in the wards. Maybe he sidetracked, saw someone he knew at the hospital and spent the _entire week_ Ace was caged inside that hospital room catching up, all the while forgetting about Ace. Now it wasn't like he was jealous or needy, but he'd just like to be aware so he didn't need to worry.

Because Luffy _always_ made him worry.

The voice snickered.

 _(_ _He found better friends._ _)_

Ace frowned and opened the next door and banged it close, getting increasingly annoyed and frustrated with his lack of findings. He called Luffy's name again. Ignoring the frantic calls of the nurses behind him and gave them his signature scowl whenever they dared to touch him and haul him back.

"Luffy!" Ace called, trying for the next door when a thought struck him.

What if he fell asleep inside the compartment again?

That wouldn't be the first time. That idiot had a habit to sneak inside it whenever Grandpa drove Ace across the city. With increasing alarm Ace ran, down the stairs, down the halls towards the car park only to realise that his Grandpa's car wasn't there. Ace whirled around towards the only nurse that managed to keep up with his frantic speed, asking, "When is Grandpa coming?"

"Why...?" The nurse caught her breath, hair undone and her tiny hat askew. It took a while for the redness to recede but her face regained her normal complexity at last. "In half an hour, of course. Now if you'd follow me back to your room. You need to get ready. You'll have visitors."

"Visitors? Is it. . .?" Ace heart hammered hard in his chest. "Is it Luffy?"

The nurse stared at him confused before she slowly shook her head. "No, not friends. It's the police."

Ace glanced at her confused but let her drag him back to his room, where the nurse rummaged through the bag Dadan brought several days ago, throwing out jeans and complementary shirts. "Choose, quickly." she ordered, opening the door wide open for her to step through. "Surgeon Law-san wants to have another look at you before they come."

"Why is the police coming here?" As far as Ace knew he hadn't done anything bad- at least nothing that requires police attention. What could they possible want from him?

She halted, turning to look at him surprised before something akin to understanding flitted through her expression. She answered his question, giving him a sympathising smile and slowly closed the door behind her.

" _Garp-san will tell you."_

Ace's face darkened. To hell with his Grandpa. To hell with that nurse. To hell with everybody. Why couldn't they just answer his damn question?

Ace glared at his clothes. Glared at his bed. Glared at the room he was confined in for no reason. His gaze shifted towards the windows, now drilled shut and sealed with bars. His stare turned longingly at the freedom that awaited him outside his these walls. But then it was replaced by surprised. A familiar car drove passed towards the hospital entrance.

No doubt that was his Grandpa's car. Ace twisted his head to the clock. Indeed, he was early. Too early. His Grandpa usually had the tendency to arrive late whenever possible. Ace bit his lip and gazed towards the door. But he made up his mind and strode forwards, praying silently that no-one guarded it.

He was lucky. The hallway was empty. That alone sky-rocketed Ace's interest. Since Ace woke up the first time, his Grandpa made sure to hire somebody to keep watch around the clock. Usually it was Kalifa but Ace hadn't seen her since he jumped from the window. He shrugged. He didn't need to be babysit anybody. He was fifteen already old enough to take care of himself.

Ace sneaked passed the nurses and the Doctors down to the first floor. He saw his Grandpa talking at the reception, typically barking a laugh until strange men came up to him. With rising confusion Ace watched them walk off, heading inside an elevator. Ace sneaked closer, making sure to hide behind people, pots and carts. He ignored the pointed fingers from children and strange looks an elderly lady gave him as Ace peeked at the elevator's number. It stopped at the seventh floor. Ace eyebrows rose sceptically. His own room was stationed on the fourth floor. It didn't seem like his Grandpa to mix up rooms or floors.

Ace punched the bottom and waited for the elevator to descend.

He wouldn't be Portgas D. Ace if he didn't get to the bottom of this.

* * *

Ace was struck to find his Grandpa together in a room with his previous supervisor Kalifa, the long-nose named, Kaku, and the pigeon carrying Boss, Rob Lucci. There were also two more people Ace had never seen before. A man that sat on his seat like he owned the place, two thick cigars stuck out from his mouth and a woman in glasses standing right behind him. Both of them faced his Grandpa that sat right across them. Ace squinted through a narrow gap, frowning from his position behind the door. _Who were they?_

Kalifa moved then, handing his Grandpa a newspaper before she resumed her position on the couch, where the Pigeon Boss and Long Nose sat. Even from where Ace was, he could see the tiredness wash over his Grandpa's eyes in a flash before it was replaced by irritation and amusement, reading out loud: _"Hospital not carefully constructed;_ _a_ _patient fell out of a window unsupervised. . . ."_

Kaku chuckled. "From a newspaper article that could have been titled; ' _B_ _ombing suspect attempted suicide out of guilty feelings_ , this is surprisingly reassuring. Don't you think?"

Lucci replied monotonously, not even sparing Kalifa so much as a glance, eyes firmly kept on the newspaper. "Having no article publicised at all would be reassuring."

Kalifa only adjusted her glasses. Her cheeks tinting slightly red. "That's not the problem, I believe."

"That's right!" The man smoking the two cigar threw a leg on the table, stirring all the attention on him. "The problem is, why I have been denied to fulfil my duty all this time." He glared at Garp through sharp eyes. "We both know that brat is healed already. And it is in my jurisdiction that I take full custody of this case and see it through—regardless of what an acute pain it actually is. So let us interview him already and be done with it."

"I have never denied you to take action. As far as I know, I have called you in today, yes?" his Grandfather was surprisingly calm and serious. Ace blinked. By know he had expected him to throw his head back and laugh, commenting how gutsy that man was actually being to treat Grandpa like that.

"That Law refused my entry several times! It was under your commission, was it not?" something dark flashing across the man's eyes before he turned away for a moment, snorting at nothing and threw his leg off the table, sitting up and leaning forward, hands knitted together in front of his nose as though he meant serious business. Ace brows rose, sending a quick glance to his Grandpa.

 _Doesn't that man_ _even_ _know who he's dealing with? Acting like this_ _in front of Grandpa_ _. . . ._

"The Surgeon of Death isn't under my command and you're well aware of that. If he has denied your entry it was because he saw so fit, Smoker. This hospital is under his jurisdiction _,_ not mine."

Smoker kept his eyes fixed on Grandpa. "As if you didn't have a hand in it."

"So where is he?" The woman behind him opened her mouth for the first time, bringing them back on topic. "You approved of our visit, did you not? So where is Ace-kun?"

"You'll meet him eventually- and that's after Law checked him over during the next twenty minutes." Kalifa gazed on her watch before glancing at them. "We planned to spend this time to recollect on that event as well as to reflect on your findings. You haven't been exactly forthcoming with information, I recall."

"Only because I didn't have to be." Smoker retorted right back. "In fact, the only think I have to do right now is interview that brat and be on my way."

"Smoker, we're talking about my Grandson." Grandpa's voice was quiet but it drove chills under Ace's back, and he wondered how the others managed to stay calm. This was _worse_ than his Grandpa's bursts of warm anger. This was menacing instead. Cold. Ace didn't like it. It didn't sound like his Grandpa. It sounded like that law-enforcer in him that Ace never liked. But why was Grandpa talking about him?

The freckled boy turned to look at Smoker. It seemed his Grandpa somehow managed to make him relent because he titled his head as though he weighted his thoughts into pros and cons. But not much it seemed. Smoker leaned back, blew ringlets of smoke into the air as he mulled it over, arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Well, if you're talking about the fine that awaits you, worry not. The brat's punishment wasn't passed due to inaccuracies in witness testimonies. He may have been found on the highway, there wasn't a single camera that recorded the accident. As you probably know, the few snippets that people have seen weren't enough to forge an insightful perspective of the event. There's no hard evidence that identifies him as the initiator of the crash—and now that the brat is awake, he's an amnesic with no recollection of the car crash. And it doesn't help that the other offender— _Burgess_ —is still in intensive care."

"Car crash?" Ace muttered and furrowed his brows in thought. He remembered a highway, speeding cars and a voice crying into his ears in laughter.

" ** _Come on_ _Ace!_ _I want to show you_ _an_ _awesome place!"_**

Ace halted, held a hand in front of his mouth at the onslaught of distant memories, swallowing thickly, ridding the acidic taste at the back of his throat. But it was lodged in his throat, burning him, suffocating him.

" _ **Let me take you!"**_

Ace clutched his chest, struggled to breath, felt nauseous with each sharp turn of his head, rid each and every painful distant echo off his mind. It was a _lie_. It could only be _a lie_. Luffy was barely twelve and so small, how could he even stretch his head enough to see the windscreen? Not to mention press the gas peddle at the same time? As far as Ace knew Luffy had no clue what shifting gears meant. Let alone be able to recognise the road signs. How could anybody even _think_ that Luffy could drive a car? Ace would never allow him to sit anywhere near the front seats. Grandpa and the others must be definitely mistaken. There mere thought that Luffy was. . . .

Ace trembled.

Bloody images flooded his mind and he saw a familiar crooked grin, red streaked teeth, wide dead eyes and-

Ace shuddered, shut his eyes tight, fought against the rising burn, the welling dryness of his throat that choked his breath. "I'm sorry. I'm _sorry_. _I'm so sorry._ "

 _What did I do?_ _Why did I let him?_

Ace bit his lips, quieting his whimpers down. Men didn't cry.

Ace dared to near the door again, red eyes peeking through the small gap between door and the frame. Mind craving to know where his friend was. But instead his finding answers he only saw a mixture of annoyance and disbelief scattered across Kaku's and Kalifa's faces. Except the pigeon carrying boss, his was like always completely stoic. He saw Kalifa's hands tightened as she quietly muttered words under her breath that Ace guessed to be her catchphrase. _"How insolent."_

Ace rubbed his eyes, annoyed at their lack of care. Luffy was _gone_. How could they not care? Ace rose to his feet, struggling to reach up to the door.

A hand stopped him.

Ace trailed the hand on his arm to its rightful owner only to meet an ugly, knowing smirk that he hated so much.

" _Law._ " Ace wheezed out, turning fully towards him, not caring about how tear-streaked his face was. "I wanna know where Luffy is."

The hopeful glint in Ace eyes was crushed completely when the Surgeon of Death only place a finger on his lips and titled slightly his head towards the door.

 _Why won't anybody tell me?_

Ace was ready to throw a fit. Ready to smash anything and everything in his way.

"You might find out if you keep on listening, Portgas-ya."

Ace looked away from his clenching fist and gazed up, staring at the Surgeon's stoic expression before he returned his eyes towards the room in front of him.

 _I might find out?_

He saw his Grandpa shook his head dismissively, and Ace was relieved to see the fire rekindle inside his old man's onyx eyes. The police in him was gone. "Forget the fine. I'm more worried about how the others have taken it."

"You mean the Whitebeards?" Smoker snorted yet again, propping his head on his fist. "Like anybody else would, I guess. They take the brat to be a traitor. Not surprisingly, really. The brat was the only one that did not attend. But you already know that, don't you?"

Grap was silent for a moment until he nodded at last. "Of course, I do. How about you start filling me in the details that I'm not yet aware of?"

"I will for five thousand bucks."

Ace's eyes widened. _So much?_

It seemed he wasn't the only one surprised by the amount as the woman behind smoker spluttered indignantly. "But Smoker-san. . ."

"What?" he spared her a glance. "Business doesn't come easy. You should know that, Tashigi."

"But we don't sell information- _we_ _keep them._ " She shook her head in disbelief, face expression completely aghast. Ace wondered about that. Why would they sell information? weren't they all working together?

Garp held up a hand. "About you'd make it for free?"

"How about I'd make it for ten grand?" Smoker retorted readily. "It's not in my policy to admit information to others. Regardless whether you're my superior or not. So how about we'd make it painful for both of us?"

"Five grand, yeah?" Grandpa repeated, contemplating. "And that's for all the information I want? Without a catch?"

"There are no strings attached. Absolutely none. My work may be pricey but it's honest."

"That's to be expected from the White Hunter." Lucci spoke up after remaining silent for a while. "I've heard about your sources before. Despite being quick, detailed and accurate, you're quite stingy to share. What makes you do so now? Pity? Your honour? Your sense of responsibility?" Lucci snorted but kept his eyes out of emotion. "We both now that's not true."

"It's for my sense of justice." Smoker glared at him before he glanced back at Grandfather. "Will you pay up now or am I wasting my time here?"

"Here's the five grand. Now get down to it." Ace watched his Grandpa get out his check book, scribbling on a note and tearing it out, sliding it across the table to Smoker. Ace brows furrowed. _Why would the old man pay_ _up_ _so much money for information?_

Smoker took it and glanced it over before placing it inside his chest pocket. "Alright. Go on Tashigi. Give it to him."

The woman gave him an uncertain look but came forward nonetheless, pulling out an enclosed envelop from her bag that she handed over to Grandpa. He readily took it in his hand, carefully opening it, sliding out a neatly stapled stack of paper out with his fingers, and glanced it over. He nodded and slid it back inside, putting the envelop away in his pocket, and getting up to his feet. The others did too.

 _That's it?_

Ace eyes widened at their motion to leave. Just. Like. That.

 _This can't be._

He glanced back to that Surgeon, heart hammering in his chest when he saw him marching down the hall. His mind raced in seconds, thoughts fleeing and entering his mind when his eyes trailed Law's back into the distant, until it finally clicked.

 _He dares to leave. . ._

Ace glared. Bored holes into the back of Law's head, and before Ace had the chance to roar profanities at him, the Surgeon turned. Law's eyes landed on him lazily, almost disinterested hadn't it been for that ugly smirk. It kept widening. Ace fists trembled and he gritted his teeth, glaring with the intensity of a blasting sun as he seethed of anger. Of pure rage. Wanting no more than tear that Law apart, because _he_ _dared_.

The door opened form behind him, but Ace cared not. Because that _Law_ dared to _lie_.

Ace stomped forward, steps heavy of threatening doom.

His arm be dammed-

His life be dammed-

His pride be dammed-

If Ace didn't pummel him-

Didn't beat him for raising his hopes-

For misleading him-

For making him believe that they would tell him-

 _I'll kill him._

 _I'll make him pay._

Ace heard distant shouts but he ignored them all, racing straight at Law and his ugly smirk that Ace will definitely punch off.

His arm be dammed-

His life be dammed-

Ace felt himself flinging down. Head on fire; of love; of pain. He was near the brink of receiving another concussion.

 _It hurts._

His vision blurred. The floor collided on him.

But Ace could still see him. See that Law was still standing there, looking at him with that ugly- _knowing-_ smirk.

And the anger rose once more.

Ace struggled against the prying hands, keeping him still, suppressing him, confining him-

He roared, cursed and kicked.

His broken arm _hurt_ _._ Burned of pain.

It hurt hurt hurt _hurt_ -

He gritted his teeth, pulling his arm back and punched, hearing crunches against his fist.

 _Be damned._

And then—

And then it dawned on him.

He knew.

Law knew.

That Luffy. . . .

. . .wasn't coming back.

Ace stopped. Suddenly frozen. The struggles receded into soft tugging until Kalifa and Kaku were able to drag him away. Back into his room. Back to his confinement. The distant shouts were muffled to his ears, lulling the rage in Smoker's heated snarls at Law's stoicism as they drew Ace away. But not so managed to dull Grap's obnoxious laughter at Ace accomplishment to trail them this far undetected. _His stealth takes after mine!_

But Ace felt hollow, shallow, numb and dumb.

 _Why haven't I realised this sooner?_

Luffy wasn't coming back.

 _(He's sick of you)_

* * *

Ace woke up with drilling silence in his ears. He glanced around the dark room, around his confinement with double locked windows and watched over doors. Seeing no Luffy yet again.

Ace waited.

Waited until the sun rose and flitted its golden rays passed the silhouettes. Waited until Rob Lucci came in with a nurse, pushing a cart with full of delicious food that made him feel unbelievably sick.

Ace threw the covers over his head and waited. Ignored the nurse's constant probes to eat and scowled at her for trying to get the blanket away from him. Lucci sat silently across the room with shaded eyes, staring into the wall before him, glaring at Ace every now and then for refusing to follow instructions. But Ace ignored him too, thinking if he stayed under the blankets for too long,

they would eventual leave him out of boredom.

But they _didn't_.

Ace hid his disappointment and glared at them. Still waiting for his idiotic friend to appear. It had been, what? Almost two weeks now since he last met him.

Ace needed to see him.

To make sure that he was fine.

That Law was lying. That Ace was mistaken.

And so Ace waited, sighing when his stomach grumbled. Loudly. One of Lucci's brows twitched but other than that did nothing. No indignation to eat. No worries. No scornful looks.

 _Maybe. . .maybe he doesn't really care either._ Ace thought and looked up, tracing with his eyes the yellow patches and cracks on the ceiling for the thousandth time. Trying to erase thoughts of hunger which he managed to do until the golden rays changed to hues of pink and red and not long the sky darkened to pitch blue—then Ace decided it was _enough_.

He scampered passed the blankets, tangling up in them and crashing on the floor in his anger. He pushed his face off the floor, glaring at Lucci's light smirk and raised eyebrow and stomped into the bathroom because Ace _had_ _enough_.

Luffy obviously wasn't coming by.

 _(Obviously he won't come by._

 _It's a waste of time to be with you, anyway.)_

Ace snorted and slammed the door shut, immediately opening up the cupboards in search for a trusty weapon that he didn't find despite wrecking up the place, wringing drawers open and slamming them shut, repeatedly. Not at all caring that Lucci was metres away and could hear every havoc he rose. But Ace did not care. Because Luffy wasn't here.

 _(Luffy doesn't need you._

 _Nobody does._

 _Just kill yourself already.)_

"Shut up." Ace snarled, annoyed he couldn't find even a pack of razors. Frustrated with his lack of options, Ace whirled and grabbed the mirror, pushed it off the hinges and smashed it on the ground, watching it shattered and stomped on the shards that reflected him, cursing loudly at himself because Luffy wasn't here to make it stop.

So he grabbed a couple of shards and pierced it through his flesh, keen on making it stop himself. Because Law was lying. Luffy wouldn't leave him. Ace drew the deep lines over and over the rising blood, digging a little bit deeper each time the dark thoughts came again. Because Luffy _didn't_ leave him.

 _(If he didn't leave you, why isn't he here?_

 _Why isn't he with you?)_

"Shut up!" his arm roared of pain, withered in agony under the sharp blade but Ace held still and made his arm roar louder, slashed a little longer, a little deeper, a little quicker—until the shards are spluttered of blood and his arm smeared red—until Ace completely stilled and saw his reflection—bloody, bloody reflection. He glanced around, finding the bathroom as empty as before, no sunny smiles, no goofy laughter.

Luffy was absolutely not here.

 _(He's gone. Forever._

 _Isn't that obvious by now?)_

Ace couldn't think of anything to refute him. Couldn't accuse him of lying. Not when that stupid voice spoke the truth. Because why wasn't Luffy here.

Luffy, who promised to stay with him.

" _ **F**_ _ **rom now on I'll be your reason to live,**_ _ **Ace!"**_

"Liar." it rolled over his tongue easily as though it waited for Ace to say it all along. Slowly he sat down, glancing at the tiles with empty eyes, finding solace in his dark thoughts that strangely comforted him. Because Luffy had lied to him.

Of course, Luffy wouldn't be here.

"He isn't going to stay. Not for someone like me." Ace muttered. The splitters that dug into his palm drew blood on its own and Ace glanced down. Glanced down on his arm. His bloodied, damaged arm and smiled. _I did that._

Slowly he traced the cuts that were still overflowing, dirtying his clothes and Ace was sure he'd get a tongue lashing but he did not care. Because it was his. Because he did this.

"Maybe. . .maybe I can wear bandages again." Ace murmured as he craved as smiling face and a sad face into the back of his hand, wondering what Luffy might say to that the next time he'd see him.

 _(. . .if you see him.)_

"If I see him," Ace corrected and rose his hand, marvelling his artwork, "Maybe it'd be healed already."

 _(Maybe you'd be dead already.)_

Ace craved the lines of the smile a little deeper, sharper, so it looked like that hateful smirk that told him truth.

 _(That surgeon was right._

 _You were waiting for nothing.)_

"Nothing, huh?" Ace whispered, glanced at the unhappy face that looked so happy to him. " . . .Maybe you're right about that."

* * *

By the time he cleaned his wounds and wrapped his cuts up like the many times he had done before, the Pigeon Boss was already long gone. Ace was glad that nobody was instructed to watch him at nights. It was just the windows and doors they bothered to lock and barricade. But it gave him enough time to clean up the mess in the bathroom and keep a few shards that he hid between the narrow gap between the drawer's foot and the wall.

But when Law came in for his regular check up in the morning, Ace met him with a blank stare and made no motion to hide his bandaged arm.

He shifted in his bed, sitting upright, hearing under the shuffle, thuds of comic books hitting the ground that Coby and Helmeppo brought each day to keep him occupied. He straightened out the bed cover, adjusting the pillows behind his back whilst Law glanced at his bandaged arms with confusion but he made no motion to ask, so Ace didn't bother answering. He wouldn't have anyway. Silently and swiftly Law went through the procedure that simply a nurse could do, checking blood pressure, temperature, breathing rate and all the other insignificant things Ace could care less about—that was, until Law grabbed his freshly bandaged arm despite Ace's effort to pull back.

The surgeon's eyes were expressionless as he unravelled the poorly wrapped up bandage. Ace was sure he was expecting bruises or minor cuts and couldn't help the smirk that widened when Law's eyes narrowed, clear lines of disapproval written across the length of his face.

Ace couldn't help but snort in response, wringing his arm out of Law's grip and ignored the hissing burn of his arm, eyes stubbornly fixed at the sealed windows, at the clouds and treetops he could see from behind the tight bars, effectively ignoring Law and his gaze that weighted on Ace heavily. "You shouldn't be doing this."

"Don't tell me what to do." Ace muttered, lowering his eyes to his arm, running a finger along his tender flesh, feeling fresh scabs prod under his fingertips. It didn't hurt as much as it yesterday and even then it only hurt as much as a hard shove. Nothing major. Nothing large. Ace crooked his head back, glaring at Law through stormy eyes. "I have every right to mar my skin."

Law remained silent but there was a tiny amount of annoyance flitting passed the dark shade of his eyes before it disappeared behind invisible metal bars. His apathetic expression melted away under the influence of a little smile before he whistled appreciatively under his breath, "You're _insane_."

"I have been told." Ace spoke slowly, frowning at the other's amusement, quiet sure that Law's behaviour is categorised as unconventional and in other people's opinion potentially _sickening_.

But Ace liked it and smiled back with mean eyes, finding the amusement in the irony of a doctor's inability to straighten out the problems in his own head. He stretched his arm out, ready for it to be properly treated under soaked swabs but Law only lowered it and shook his head, gazing him with stern eyes.

"Before I'd like to know how you've managed to shred your arm like that. Sharp objects are strictly prohibited and seized by the hospital personnel upon entry. Not to mention that medical equipments are safely stored and impossible to obtain by patients."

"I've thought something like that was the reason when I have only been given a plastic spoon to eat my meals." Ace rose a brow at him. "How do you expected me to eat any meat with those plastic things? they just break."

Law flat out ignored him. "Garp made it specifically clear that razors and knifes should be kept from you and I ordered for that. So how did you?"

Ace pursed his lips into a taunt line. They would notice the missing mirror anyway, not to mention the glass shards lying inside the bin.

 _Maybe that wasn't my smartest move. . ._

Under Law's persistent stare, Ace pointed to the bathroom. "What in there, do you think, could I have shattered into shards?"

Silently, Law regarded Ace as the information sunk in. "I haven't pegged you for the desperate type."

"It's a coping mechanism, of course it's desperate. It's used in desperate times." Ace gave him a look. "Jeez, I haven't pegged you for the dumb type either."

"It's seems that _you're_ quiet dumb. Let me guess: you have just jammed the shard straight into your arm without much thinking, didn't you? I bet there are splinters stuck in your wounds that you don't even know about." Law retorted with such a tightness, Ace felt confused at the brewing anger in his eyes.

 _Is he offended?_

Before Ace could ask, Law grabbed his elbow and yanked him on his feet, pulled him out of the door, completely disregarding Ace and his struggles to find his footing, failing time and time again to kick the blanket from his feet off and dragged it across the polished floor, stumbled over it and came several times close to bang his head against the doors. But as far as Ace knew Law didn't notice or even cared that he rammed his patient straight into a cart full of medical supplies when they rounded a corner. Law was far too absorbed in his incessant mumble as his brows were knitted in annoyance.

"What would you have done if it irritated your skin? Cut your muscles? Your arteries? you'd bleed internally—perhaps just a little but enough to build up pressure and tear your tissues apart. I can guarantee you, you'd be howling in _pain_. Your Grandpa will set the blame on me. Complain and threat me until you're stabilised _without_ an amputated arm. Do you think it's easy to deal with melodramatic people? I don't have the stamina nor the desire to deal with that persistent side of Garp. So do me a favour and steer cleat out of troubles, yeah? Portgas-ya, you're listening?"

At last he turned around, staring at a fuming Ace, his clothes reeking of antiseptics and anti-bacterial stenches. Law frowned and took a closer look. "Didn't I just tell you to steer out of trouble?"

"Whose fault is it that I collided with a bloody cart?" Ace narrowed his eyes, held the drenched spot on his shirt away as far as he could. It so cold and so slimy that Ace wanted to gag right there and then.

But Law's face was apathetic when he opened up a door, calling for a nurse to get Ace a gown before he marched over to his army of Doctors that were under his command. Ace heard something about preparing X-ray and keeping their eyes on Ace when Law disappeared momentary behind a glass door.

Ace glanced around the room quietly. It was an examination room packed with medical equipments Ace had never seen before which meant something since Ace practically lived in the hospital for the vast majority of his life. Because his Grandpa was insistent of Ace's insanity ever since he first played with a lighter in his first year of primary schooling and found he rather liked burning himself.

After minutes of silent waiting as the Doctors squabbled about to set up the equipments with such speed Ace grew long since used to. He closed his eyes and listened to the familiar beating of the mechanical equipments, waiting for Law to come and finally treat his wounds before someone barges into his unoccupied room and deems him as missing, notifying the hospital personnel to hunt him down and imprison him before his Grandpa randomly pops up for a visit.

Ace smiled, imagining the fiery reaction of his Grandpa.

 _Wouldn't actually be that bad. . . ._

* * *

When Ace marched back into his roam, clad in a gown that had extra long sleeves, he didn't expect his Grandpa to sleep on his bed. Nor did he expect to find a stack of paper dangling at the tips of his fingertips, envelop long discarded on the floor. With twitching eyebrows, Ace grabbed the envelop and flicked it over. No name. His eyes lingered on the stack and Ace moved to carefully guide it out of his Grandpa's clutches. It was surprisingly easy despite his Grandpa being a light sleeper. After warily keeping his eyes on him for a full minute, Ace was convinced his Grandpa was fast asleep.

He sat down on the armchair cross-legged, placing the papers on his lap, flicking through one by one. With each thin printed word his eyes traced, his brows sunk deeper and deeper until he was reading each word quietly to himself when his mind stopped comprehending and everything appeared to be blur of convoluted, nonsensical words that drifted right from right ear to the next. Ace's eyes roamed frustratingly over the papers and not a single thing made sense. "What _is_ this?"

"Seems like you have found it. Figures with Garp's carelessness."

Ace jumped at the sudden voice of a stranger. He turned seeing a man smoking two cigars stepping into a room with the women in glasses closing the door behind them.

"Although," the man continued when he neared the bed, staring at Grandpa's snoring face with twitching eyebrows, before he sated at Ace with calculating eyes. "I'm not surprised at this development. In fact, this makes things easier for me."

"I don't know what you're talking about. But you should be quiet if you don't want Grandpa to wake up. He's a light sleeper." Ace said, flicking back to the first page and got up, carrying the stack of paper under his arm as he marched to the door, beckoning them with a flick of a hand. "Follow me."

Smoker grumbled under his breath but followed him without much ado, letting himself be guided to the common room. It was always empty at this time. There was only specific times it could be used. Ace didn't exactly know why but he _knew_ it was probably a silly reason like the one Law used to justify his cause to _only_ distributed _plastic_ spoons to patients.

"By the way, what happened to your hand, Ace-kun?" Tashigi asked as she righten her glasses "I know that one of them was casted up, but why is the other one now bandaged too?"

Ace looked at her in surprised before he gazed up in his hand, the one he ingrained the smiley faces on. He raised it, twisting and turning his bandaged arm for them to look at, whilst trying his best to look sheepish. "My hand is pretty much messed up. I got upset earlier and punched the mirror in my room, you know?"

Tashigi's turned blank and behind her Smoker only shut his eyes briefly, stuffing his hands inside his pocket and tipped his chin to the couch, motioning for Ace to sit down whilst he stood. "Let's get this started, shall we?"

"But before I liked to know what exactly makes you think I'm a bomber." Ace gave them a look. "Just because I didn't go to that ceremony?"

Smoker regarded him a crooked eyebrow, drawling monotonously, "Listen brat, I'll ask the questions. Your job is just to answer."

"I refuse." Ace replied and leaned back, folded one leg above the other, elbow set against the armrest and a fist propped against his chin. "The only reason I decided to speak to you is to get answer. Grandpa won't say anything. Everybody else is too scared of Grandpa to tell me anything. So I thought you would—you don't care about Grandpa."

Something flashed across Smoker's eyes and Tashigi glanced at him uneasily.

Taking that to be a positive sign, Ace continued. "Besides, I don't understand these pages. It doesn't make sense to me at all. Who's Whitebeard? What ceremony? Why does everybody care whether I went or not? And _why_ does that even _matter_?"

Smoker became deathly silent. Ace waited patiently, thinking that the elder needed time to gather his thoughts when he realised Tashigi's eyes were flicking at him in rising concern.

"What's wrong?" Ace asked, frowning at her lack of answers when she was suddenly occupied to stare at something behind her. Ace canted his head and saw a familiar figure hovering at the door frame.

Grandpa.

"Didn't I say not to question him without my presence?" he walked into the room, glaring at Smoker who didn't even turn to face him, eyes till fastened on Ace with furrowed brows.

Ace ignored him and frowned at his Grandpa. "I wanted to talk to them without your presence. You never tell me anything."

"I gave you that envelop, did I not?" Garp answered dismissively, never even taking his eyes off Smoker and Tashigi, who was pushing her glasses further up her nose.

"Did not. I took it off you when you were napping, you senile old man." Ace muttered, effectively steeling his Grandfather's attention and angering him as Ace found himself howling in pain under Garp's fist.

"Should you be hitting his head?" Tashigi asks slowly, voice barely above a whisper when she stared at Ace. "Isn't it damaged?"

Ace frowned at her, then at Grandpa whose expression became suddenly guarded and tad bit serious when he expressed that Ace's head was always damaged which _supposedly_ explained his insanity.

Ace snored, _as if._

"I'm not insane." Ace muttered for the umpteenth time and massaged his head—was it broken? could a head be broken? "I'm like any other fifteen year old should be."

Ace didn't notice the change first. But when the room became so silent Ace could even hear himself breathing, he glanced up and saw Grandpa's and Smoker's apathetic faces and Tashigi's sad one.

"What?" he asked and asked again much louder when the silence and their gazes became very oppressive all of a sudden. "What's going on?"

Smoker turned to him when Garp chose to keep his silence. "So you think you're fifteen, huh?"

"I don't think, I _am_." Ace answered with rising confusion. "Just what's the problem with my age?"

"Nothing. Except the fact that—"

"Don't tell him." Garp suddenly spoke up and Ace could see the many wrinkles on his forehead as his face appeared seemingly conflicted. "At least not now. Information he receives too quickly can push him into shock—if that happens how many years do you think he'll be set back in _then_ _?"_

"So you want him to believe that he's still fifteen? To prevent him of going into shock?" Smoker challenged and took a drag from his cigars, perfectly balancing between his fingers. "What can a five years difference do to him?"

A five years difference? Ace gazed at his Grandpa and Smoker in confusion. "Do you mean to say I'm ten?"

When both adults chose to remain silence, Ace took another guess, speaking slowly and unsure as the number sounded so weird to his ears. ". . . _.Twenty?"_

Smoker took another drag and shrugged. "What do you think?"

"Ten." Ace found that number much more believable than _twenty_. It meant that he was an adult and free of Grandpa's grasp—but here he was, unable to even escape a hospital _room_ , much less the hospital _itself_.

Grandpa turned to Smoker with clouded eyes. "See? I told you'll set him back. This happens when you don't listen to me."

Smoker only glowered at him in return. "Shouldn't you be grateful that I made it clear to him? I know you've been dying to tell him anyway. Did Law make you take an oath that you won't tell him anything?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Garp looked away pointedly, whistling under his breath as he shoved his hands inside his pockets, slowly marching away to Ace's side. "That loser over there is joking with you, Ace. You're fifteen. There's no way you could be twenty and you know that."

"Twenty, huh?" Ace muttered and drove his hands through his head, thinking deeply. _Twenty_ _._

Twenty. . .

Twenty. . .

Twent. . .

Twen—

Ace winced and clutched his head, seeing bury faces in a packed room. Coloured banners. Festive arrangement. Too many people. Too many shouts of praise. Too many hands reaching out to him, patting his back and wishing him luck and happiness. For what though?

For what—?

 _Hap-_

 _Happy-_

Ace shut his eyes, fishing the memory from his subconscious mind, knowing it was still there. _Still_ in reach.

 _Happy Birth-_

Ace cried out, crouched down, gripped his hair tightly, shut his eyes tight and he heard ringing of laughter and singing loud enough to split his head and he wished he could rip his ears apart only to make it finally _stop_.

Dots filled his vision and Ace could barely hear the worried shouts of Tashigi calling for a Doctor, could barely notice Garp sitting next to him and checking him over, could barely see the unreasonable guilt forming in Smoker's eyes as he drove his hand through his own hair. And yet Ace did— _he did he did he did—_ but yet he—

 _Happy Birthday to your twentieth!_

" _You'll like my present the most, Ace! I bought you_ _a_ _—"_

Ace breaths were too shallow. Too irregular. He gazed at Garp through unfocused eyes as his he was holstered up and brought down to lay down on the couch, but Ace still managed to stress each word that fell pass his lips relentlessly. "Somebody brought me a car— _t_ _hat_ car—"

" _Come on, Ace! I want to show you some awesome place!"_

There was that ringing again. That ringing of hollow laughter. Almost resembling the shallow echoes of chuckles that clung on the darkness, full of non-existent joys.

" _. . . .just so you know, I'll drive. Just in case."_

"Grandpa, do you think I did—?" Ace's orbs moved wildly in its socket, searching for Garp's face that he couldn't find—it was blurry, so blurry and yet— "Do you think I did, Grandpa?"

Ace could still see that face. That blood _drenched_ face _—_ he couldn't see his Grandpa but he could see that familiar face with that crooked grin, those red streaked teeth, those wide dead— _dead, dead, dead_ —eyes of Luffy.

"Do you think I did, Grandpa? Did I hurt Luffy? Is he like that _because_ of that car?"

The Doctor came rushing on but even then Ace held tight onto Garp's coat, tears dripped into his mouth, snot falling freely but he still asked—still saw that bloody image _of. . ._ "Do you think I did, Grandpa?Is _Luffy_ because of _me,_ Grand _—?"_

He heard hushes and someone gently rocking his shoulder but Ace still mumbled even as a needle pierced his skin, voicing out his distorted thoughts until it became slurs and incomprehensible mumbles that he himself even didn't understand but he felt strangely calm and tired. Ace closed his eyes, staring straight at a crooked grin, red streaked teeth and wide dead eyes that greeted him.

Sleep came to him and welcomed him as a nightmare that Ace couldn't wake up from.

* * *

Ace was silent. His room was silent. The ward was silent.

He spent his time staring holes at the ceiling.

He spent his time ignoring Kalifa and her glares that were prompting him to eat.

Ignored Long Nose attempts to get him talking.

The nurses that were trying to get him eating.

To get him moving out of his damned bed.

To get that damned blanket off his body.

To get him talking. To eat. To sleep.

But Ace stared holes at the ceiling.

Ignored each person that spoke to him. Supposedly cared for him. Supposedly watched over him.

His arms were throbbing at his sides. Bandaged to the degree not even excuses of punching mirrors, falling against a cart full of antiseptics and anti-bacterial flasks, allergic reaction to certain medical fabrics, could bail him out.

Law noticed. But didn't say a word. Just bandaged it up with that sickening—ugly— _knowing_ —smirk that Ace couldn't careless about. Not anymore. Not that he did ever. But Ace couldn't remember if that was true. Couldn't think of a time when he did.

So when when Ace started playing with his wounds out of boredom and the red liquid kept seeping out of his wraps, staining his clothes and the sheets, Law didn't as much as snorted.

"Moderate yourself, will you?"

"I wouldn't need to if you'd just tell me where to cut."

The conversation ended there. More or less. Because Ace could never be sure. Neither of them relented. Kept their silence. And that was it.

Nothing more, nothing less.

It was apathetic—Ace liked to think. Apathetic in general. Their faces. Their voices. The words they speak. And Ace tired to mirror that. Always tried to mirror that. So then it would seem less that Ace really cared. Really cared of their lack of care. Really cared about apathy. Really cared about the lack of Luffy.

So he stared holes at the ceiling.

Didn't eat. Didn't sleep.

And the days went on.

Even his Grandpa—that tried to force-feed him whenever he stopped by for a rare visit—didn't annoy Ace anymore. He barely cared—No,Ace _didn't_ care.

"Ace-san, are you _even_ listening?" the nurse stressed, clutching the clipboard closed to her chest.

Ace didn't as much as glance at her. Kept his eyes on the ceiling. On the dirty stains and the deep cracks. Ace ignored her until her face reddened, fed up, vexed, so near to throttle him.

And Ace wished she did.

But she only gave up and left, locking the door behind her.

But Ace stared at the ceiling.

Just stared holes at the ceiling.

Didn't eat. Didn't sleep.

And the days went on.

On and on and on.

* * *

 _It was pouring. Drenching him to his bones when just stepped a foot out of the building. His chinos and shirt were soaked through despite the jacket he wore. Ace cursed, thought whether to turn back and crash at Marco's for the night when he saw owlish eyes peering at him under a wet hood, sitting on the floor near the front door of the tiny flat he just walked out off. A smile bloomed on the face before him and a Shi Shi Shi Shi rung loudly at Ace's ears._

" _. . . .Luffy?" Ace blinked and stepped closer before he crouched down in front his little brother, whose grin widened as he fished his hand from his pocket, raising a set of car keys that Ace was sure didn't belong to either of them._

" _Where—?"_

 _Before he could finish, Luffy already grabbed his arm and drug him out to the pouring rain. "Come on, Ace! I want to show you some awesome place!"_

" _What—?" Ace resisted, dug his feet onto the ground but Luffy kept pulling._

" _Let me take you!"_

" _No! Knowing you, you'll take me who knows where and get us lost. I need to be somewhere tomorrow. Let's play 'getting lost' another day."_

" _I know where that place is! We won't get lost this time so LET'S GO!"_

 _Ace watched amused at Luffy's effort to tow him along when they both long since stopped moving. It was only Luffy that was still pulling Ace's hand with all his might until he suddenly stopped and looked at Ace exasperatedly. "Don't you trust me, Ace?"_

 _Luffy's vacant eyes bored holes into him and he could see the pout forming already at Ace prolonged silence until Ace finally gave in and smiled."Sure I do. But just so you know, I'll drive. Just in case."_

" _Yaaay!" Luffy threw on another ecstatic smile until it faded and he stilled, slowly turning around, staring at his older brother with troubled eyes._

" _Oh and Ace? I think I forgot to tell you something really important. . ."_

* * *

The machines were ringing, beeping chaotically into his ears. Too loud. Too noisy. And way too many Nurses fussing about him. The army of Doctors came but Ace saw no Law. No ugly smirk. But he thought he heard someone say his breathing rate was too high. His heart beat too quick. Too _poignant—_ Ace thought it was springing out of his chest. It _hurt._

But then it was quiet.

Too quiet.

When he opened his eyes the next time he saw a man with a strange pineapple on his head.

 _Bizarre._ Ace thought and closed his eyes but found he couldn't fall asleep. Upon opening his eyes again, the figure was still there and Ace tried to rub his eyes but found he couldn't move. His hands were too heavy to be lifted. To be felt.

Ace moaned as the light kept burning his eye lids. He closed them again, slowly opening his eyes, adjusting them to the to the bright blinding light. It took a while before he could recognise that strange thing as a person.

"Who're you?" his voice was rasped, so _deep,_ and Ace wondered how long he has slept this time.

"Don't you recognise me? I'm Marco," the reply was relaxed, as though he expected that kind of response and Ace shifted in his seat, tried to get a better look at the person in front of him. "I heard that you got set back five years this time. Figures you can't remember me. You've only met me when you were eighteen."

Ace blinked at the chunks of information thrown at him and only held onto one piece of information at a time. "You're Marco?"

"Yeah, that's me." He shrugged and leaned back on his chair, adjusting his crutches in his arms as he gave Ace a contemplated look. "Anything else you want to ask?"

Ace shook his head and glanced at the ceilings. "There's no point. You won't tell me the truth anyway. Nobody does."

Marco regarded him silently before he said, "I've been in and out of this hospital for follow-ups recently. Every time I came by I heard of this rascal that's making nurses' lives difficult and upsetting Doctors left and right. He didn't carry out their instructions. Didn't eat. Didn't even sleep.

At first I thought it's funny that there's a strange guy like that but now knowing that it's _you_ , I'm actually concerned. What's happening with you?"

"You're breaking the rule." Ace turned to him with furrowed brows. "You can't ask these things. You're supposed to be apathetic. Pretend to care and shrug your shoulders at whether I do. You can't ask me these things."

Marco's half-lidded eyes widened for a moment before they narrowed. "Who told you this?"

Ace gave him a pointed look. "It's the rule of this hospital. But since you're actually _concerned_ about my well being, I guess I have to smile and tell you _'I'm alright'_ and that _'You shouldn't worry'_ because then you have to believe me and shut up about it—because that's the rule of this society."

Ace lifted his head, trying to shift his body upright without the use of his hands, breathing heavily out of his nose when he finally managed to sit up, leaning against the stack of pillows the nurses always bothered fluff for him. He saw Marco glance at his bandages with furrowed brows, deeply thinking, and Ace was already opening his mouth to tell him his usual excuses when Marco gazed at him, eyes weighting heavily on him.

"I didn't believe it when they said you were unstable and insane. But you really are, aren't you?"

"I've always been like this. Always. Grandpa always said I was insane."

"I never believed it. In fact, I still don't." Marco shifted and gave Ace a definite look. "If that crazy Law is having negative effects on you, you can speak up about it. Messing you up like this is unacceptable."

"The one messing me up is myself." Ace muttered and glanced at his arms, his bloodied, messed up arms. "I've always messed up myself. So you can only say that I'm insane. Grandpa wasn't lying when he said there was something wrong with me. There's always been something wrong with me."

"You were fine when we were friends. There was never anything wrong with you."

"That's because Luffy was with me. He always made me feel better." Ace glanced up, finding a pair of indifferent eyes looking at him and frowned. "What?"

Marco didn't reply but kept his strange silence and Ace fisted the sheets under his fists, his voice shook with pent up anger and frustration as he spoke. "Why are you _looking_ at me like this? Why is _everybody_ _always_ _looking_ at me like this? Do you think I'm crazytoo? That Luffy is _nothing_ but my imagination?"

Marco's half-lidded eyes widened a little but Ace didn't let him speak, too blind by the hot feeling churning in his chest to care listening to whatever excuses Marco was ready to dish out to him. It was probably another stupid _Y_ _our Grandpa_ _will tell you—_ or _—You don't need to know yet—_ or— _or—_

"What?" Ace's mind froze. The words died on his tongue and he only turned to stare at Marco with wide, uncomprehending eyes. _"What?"_

"I said," Marco spoke slowly, "If I were to say yes, what would you do?"

"What would I do?" Ace echoed, mind drawing to a blank. If Marco thought he was crazy—if Marco looked at him like he was crazy—what would he do?Marco was still looking at him expectantly and Ace thought he had ash in his mouth when he slowly said, "Nothing. I would do nothing."

Because everyone else already thought he was crazy.

Everybody else thought he was insane.

Why would Marco make a difference?

"And if I say no? No, I don't think you're crazy?" Marco continued, his voice surprisingly empty and hollow. "What would you do then?"

"Nothing." Ace repeated, still trying to wrap his head around this concept. Because it _didn't_ matter.

What Marco thought _didn't matter_.

What everybody else thought _didn't matter,_ because—

"I don't understand. I don't understand this at all." Ace's orbs shook wildly in its socket, pulse speeding up, machinery beeping frantically inside his room, and Ace saw dots sweeping to his vision, patters of bright colours, irregularly twirling into weird shapes—into a sphere, a circle, a thin and thick rectangles, slimming down until it became a head, a torso and limbs and _—_ _and_ _—_ was that Luffy?

"Ace, do you think you're crazy?" Marco's voice was strangely distant and Ace looked around and couldn't see him anymore. It was dark, _so_ _dark_. But he could still see Luffy standing across the room. The rim of his straw hat covered his expressive eyes that Ace could still somehow see.

"Y-yeah. I'm crazy. I'm absolutely bonkers."Ace rasped out, voice slightly shaking. He swallowed and felt a chill creep down his shoulders, watching Luffy dark hooded eyes, watching him slowly near him, mouthing words that froze Ace all over.

"I said; _I'll be your reason to live."_

"I said; _We don't need anybody else."_

Ace couldn't breathe.

He couldn't comprehend the dark expression on Luffy's face. The small hand he placed on Ace's shoulder.

Couldn't comprehended the scared whisper of—" _D_ _on't die on me, Ace._ _"_

Couldn't comprehend the sad whispers of—" _Don't leave me yet,_ _Ace._ _"_

But Ace _could_ comprehend something. That the grief stricken expression in Luffy's face and the sadness hidden in each of his words felt as real as the constriction in his chest. As real as his lungs crying out to _breathe_.

But before Ace could do something— _anything_ —he passed out. Slowly becoming conscious to the beeping sound of machinery that faded out before, and to the hands that were connecting him to tubes and cold materials that Ace couldn't exactly _feel_ but they were lulling him to sleep that came much, _much_ easier to him. But the small hand on his shoulder remained. The space next to him sunk in.

Ace felt warm. _So_ _warm_. And before he knew it, he was already dreaming about tomorrow. About the stupid smiling facethat he'd might see tomorrow. About the annoying but endearing _Shi Shi Shi Shi_ that he'd might hear tomorrow.

Because Luffy was next to him.

Because Luffy wasn't leaving him.

Because Luffy isn't sick of him.

* * *

" _Ace? I think I forgot to tell you something really important. . ."_

 _Ace turned and strained his ears, trying to catch the whispered words that dampened under the thuds of heavy rain that fell past Luffy's lips, who didn't quiet look at him, too busy shuffling his feet on the dirty ground, staining his shoes with mud the more he played with it._

" _What is it?" Ace asked and nudged his arm, trying to make his younger brother look at him, but Luffy only rose his eyes, staring at the dark with hollowed empty eyes. ". . . .Luffy?"_

" _I think I let someone follow me."_

 _Ace furrowed his brows, wondering who it was that had the nerve to stalk his younger brother when heavy rapid footsteps resounded under the heavy rain._

 _Ace canted his head back to see, catching glimpses of shadows nearing them from a distance, before redirecting his gaze down to the incessant tugging on his arm. Luffy was trying his best to steer Ace away from the road toward the few bushes and trees planted along the sidewalk._

" _It's okay, Ace! I'll take care of it. You just go and hide."_

 _Ace snorted, shrugged him off with ease and fixed his gaze ahead, staring straight ahead into the distance, even when Luffy tried to push him back with both hands with futile efforts. They both knew Luffy was a toothpick compared Ace's hard bones and muscles. So when the footsteps grew nearer and Ace could hear the faint hums of rumbling motors, he pushed the still babbling Luffy aside with a firm grip on his upper arm, steering him behind him and out of harm's reach, wondering who it was this time that Luffy bothered to steal a quantum of meat from and its entity that caused that person to bring out **an entire army** in retaliation. But the longer they stood, the more panicked Luffy got. Ace was surprised to see him wringing out of his grip and trashing from behind him with such desperation clinging to his voice. _

" _I can handle it, Ace! Just go! I'll be fine! I promise! And I'll show you that place too later! So if you'd just—!"_

 _Ace yanked him back in place, glaring at Luffy for his over-the-top behaviour. It wasn't like they've never gotten into fights. They have both gotten their fair amount of scars, bruises and broken bones over the course of their life. If you'd ask Ace, knocking others out was as natural as breathing. And Luffy should know that. Besides— "The last time I let you handle a fight you came back with a black eye and a broken arm. Whoever it is this time, I'll kick that person's ass—I'm seriously getting sick of these street fights."_

" _You don't understand, Ace! You don't stand a chance!" Luffy shouted before he whirled around, probably listening to the sounds of rumbling motors. His eyes widened considerably before they quickly landed back on Ace, scanning his face with an unspoken question that Ace easily answered with a nod of his head._

" _I know. But it doesn't matter, Luffy. They can surround us by the hundreds and I'll still pave a way for you to escape. My fists are sharp and deadly and you know that." Ace spoke softly despite the heavy rain and the threatening doom of spilling blood."It really doesn't matter how many they are."_

" _I said I'll take care of it! I'm **strong** enough to handle this and **you** know that!" _

" _I'm not going to run away and leave you behind, Luffy. I've told you before, didn't I? I'd rather die then let anyone harm you. Anyway," Ace crossed his arms and gave him a look of disapproval. "You should really stop picking fights about meat. I can't keep going to the police and argue for your case. I'm seriously running out of ideas to justify your causes."_

" _This is **not** a fight about meat but the legacy we were left behind!"_

 _Before Ace could even react heavy metal cracked against his skull, flash lights beamed into his eyes whilst he crashed against the muddied floor, seeing seeping red spluttered on grey pavement and stars twinkling in front of his eyes. Luffy was screaming amidst the confusion trembling inside Ace's mind, he glanced up, gazing passed the shadows soaking him down into his unconscious and tried to raise himself off the ground and noticed the blood dripping down his shirt._

 _There was a bloodied pole next to him. And roughly eleven—or was it fifteen?—bastards ganging up on Luffy who managed to hold his own, four already knocked out in his fit of rage. Ace sat up and drove a finger through his hair and—yup, it was sticky and red and Ace was sure he would have to bribe Law again into cleaning that mess up before Old Man Garp will have a fit about having raised good-for-nothing delinquents than well-respected police officers that they supposedly should have been._

 _He snorted, stifling a groan and pulled up to his feet, grabbing the pole and winded it back, resting the length on his shoulder as he neared those hooligans that were out for Luffy's blood and completely and cowardly disregarding his presence._

There's no way I'd let them get away with that.

 _It didn't take long for Ace to knock out eight of them. Six were lying around Luffy's feet, who was currently lunging a jaw breaking punch at one of them. Three of them were still around, hesitating to attack and Ace took the time to wipe his chin with the back of his hand, thoughts finally clearing up enough to notice that there were in fact twenty-one retards that actually dared to take them on and thought they'd get away with it unharmed._

 _Ace moved to get this pointless fight over and done with when he saw Luffy frozen in his spot, looking at particular direction. Ace crooked his head back, from the shadows of a building a burly man crept out with a laugh under his breath that ran his blood cold._

" _. . . .Zehahahahaha!"_

* * *

Ace woke up to hear persistent blares that sounded straight into the sensitive spot of his ear, throbbing so loud, it triggered avalanches of pangs hammering inside his head. Ace opened his eyes slowly and glared at the dark through bleary eyes, swiping across the room in search of that annoying sound. But he didn't have an alarm. His phone was out cold on the table. The TV plugged off. And not to mention that—

 _Knock! Knock! Knock!_

Ace scowled, there was it again. He redirected his eyes at the door and threw his blankets off, stomping along the cold floor with spiteful words already dripping from his tongue, fully prepare to give an earful at whoever dared to rouse him from his sleep.

Ace swung the door open and blinked at the empty hallway, not exactly surprised to see that no one was there but rather at the that it actually _opened_. Although, it took a moment for Ace to understand _why—_ and when he did—Ace wondered whether he was hallucinating—whether his mind was conjuring up images that were closed to being absolutely absurd. Because Ace was sure that since his failed window-escapade, it was under Kaku's direct supervision to look (or barricade the door if necessary) every night. Though, Ace never understood why. It wasn't like he was trying to run away or escape from the hospital.

The very essence of even trying was ludicrous, not to mention that there was _absolutely_ _nothing_ to escape from. As long as Grandpa was dead convinced that Ace was crazy, he was doomed to spend the rest of his life _here,_ confined in this stupid little room. But at this point, it was undeniable that Ace felt more and more each day like a bird cooped inside in a cage, and not even drowning inside a fantasy world illustrated in the stack of comics he hoarded at the side of the wall could muffle the tiny voice of boredom echoing at the back of his mind. The tiny voice that screamed of the freedom that was robbed of him, but what freedom? The world outside was like the dull world inside his mind. Confining. Suffocating. Not to mention a total _annoyance_.

With a soft sigh, Ace closed the door behind him with a soft click and marched back to his bed, eyes lingering on the barbed window and the little stars shining through the dark. He shook his head, lightly drifting absurd and stupid thoughts away until they grew so persistent not even the pillow he threw over his head could drown it out. Ace muffled a frustrated groan, contemplating for the first time whether his head was broken—could a head even be broken?

 _Maybe it broke when I fell out of the window. . ._

But wasn't a fractured arm and a minor concussion all he got? Ace frowned, thinking back and only recalled Law saying that he was lucky to have his fall cushioned by the many little bushes planted under his window or else it could have been _so much_ worse. But Ace didn't particularly mind. His life was practically dangling on a thread anyway.

It wasn't like he had to live.

It's just that he was.

Deep in thought, Ace stared at his bandages around his arm—the one that was covered in scabs and scars whenever he cut, and throbbed at his side whenever he slept—trailing a finger along the creases around the wrap, slowly untangling it and pulling it away until he could marvel at the colour contrast, marvel at the little crimson spots peeking out from the pink flesh that emerged from the scabs and scars that were already fading into his skin.

Ace smiled and moved to trace the faces craved at the back of his hand when his hand was suddenly snatched away from him.

Ace could hardly believe his eyes when he saw a pair of owlish eyes inspecting his arm with furrowed brows and highly concentrated eyes, tracing the injuries with his cool forefinger. He tugged his arm back but Luffy wouldn't let go, grabbed onto Ace's arm with both hands and pushed it closer to his face to inspect it. Ace looked away, gazed at the yellow stained, deeply cracked ceiling and tried his best not to look at the wide despaired eyes that move to fasten on his face.

" _What'_ sthis?"

"Oh this? I wouldn't worry about that. Out of anger, I just broke the mirror in the bathroom, slipped and crashed into the shards." Ace spoke softly, eyes lingering on the barbed window before he turned to face Luffy, gently unlocking his arm out of his tight grip. "It's nothing to be concerned about. It will heal in no time."

"Liar."

Ace halted, hesitated for a moment before he blinked, acting a little taken aback before he rose his eyes to meet Luffy, finding that his arms were stubbornly crossed against his chest and a pout formed with the ceases of his lips to show his displeasure, despite the amount of seriousness shining in the dark pools of Luffy's eyes that Ace remembered to have always hated. A scowl formed almost automatically when Ace turned to Luffy, glaring at him challengingly. "How so?"

"You were always a shitty liar, Ace." Luffy pointed out, echoing the same line Ace always enjoyed to mouth off at Luffy whenever he failed to pull off a lie and poke fun at his poor ability to deceive others, and for a moment Ace wondered whether Luffy was just using this situation as an opportunity to get back at him for poking fun at him for all those times—but wasn't Luffy aware that Ace always liked his considerable foolish honesty?

"You're getting worse, aren't you?"

The voice from Luffy halted Ace's thoughts midway, freezing him in place and Ace didn't even try to hide it this time. Didn't even make a sound when Luffy asked yet again, nudging him repeatedly to get a word of confirmation past his lips. But Ace remained silent. Even when Luffy turned to eye him in obvious accusation. "Why're you so quiet? don't you trust me anymore?"

"What?" Ace whirled his head back to face him, eyes wide with incomprehension, staring at the raw hurt and bitter anger flashing in Luffy's eyes and the little trembles of his lower lip before he bit it and gritted his teeth, stilling the quivers with brute force.

"I wasn't there when that bad voice came. I couldn't keep you from cutting. Even though I was meant to make it stop. I didn't make the bad thoughts go 'way." Luffy fisted the covers from Ace's bed and looked away, straw hat shadowing his eyes as he said, "You. . .you don't need me anymore, do you? Because I wasn't there when it came. Because I couldn't be your reason to live _,_ Ace. I couldn't make the bad thoughts go 'way."

"Are you stupid?" the words left Ace's mouth before he could stop, his hand surged forward, whacking Luffy over the head. "Idiot, what do you take me for? I have _absolutely_ no intention to die and leave a crybaby like you behind."

"Really? You're not mad?" There was a hopeful glint in Luffy's eyes underneath the heavy scepticism covering his dark orbs.

Ace snorted and rolled his eyes but couldn't help the widening smile as he nodded his head and his lips twitched into a threatening smirk. ". . .Or do you think I'm a liar?"

Luffy quickly shook his head and laughed that annoying but familiar _Shi Shi Shi Shi_ that made Ace smile brighter. He ruffled through Luffy's hair with his hurt hand until the younger boy rose his eyes to stare at Ace curiously, "But what about that time you jumped out of the window? Or that time when you haven't eaten and refused to sleep for so many days, weren't you thinking of leaving then?"

Ace blinked, mind racing, trying to come up with many logical explanations as possible as to how Luffy knew. Ace was sure he hadn't seen him when whilst he jumped down that window. Did that mean he heard it from those rumours Marco spoke about? But Luffy shouldn't have been at the hospital. Or was it that. . .? Ace snapped his back at Luffy when pictures of a bloodied crooked grin, red streaked teeth and wide dead eyes flooded his mind.

"I will tell you about that. Just answer my question first."

"But Luffy—" Ace shook his head, reaching up with his bad hand to touch his own head, furrowing his brows at Luffy and the nonsensical illustrations picturing in his mind. Because _how could that even be?_

Luffy was fine. Unhurt. Free of injuries—

Or was he not?

Ace leaned forward, seizing Luffy's arms and head, pulling his collar back as far as to strangle Luffy just to peek at his tanned skin and whatever spot his hands could reach, looking for injuries—cuts, burns, even _scars_ —because Luffy was supposed to be fine. Luffy shouldn't be injured. Luffy shouldn't be at the hospital. Luffy shouldn't have all that blood on him that his mind imagined—why did it even imagine that?

 _Maybe my head is really broken._

Luffy laughed, wiggling his fingers into front of him and jumping about like a monkey after Ace let him go, just for good measure to show the elder how _fine_ he actually was. "I'm fine! See? I can still do a handstand! Look! _Look!"_

Ace rolled his eyes and managed to grab a fist of Luffy's shirt, hurling back on the bed. "Really, how did you know I was here? That I was supposedly getting worse when you didn't even know where I was?"

There it was again. _Shi Shi Shi Shi._ "I'm always watching you, Ace! That's why I know you were getting worse," the dark pools of Luffy's had a blue tinged to them that Ace never saw before. But he knew what it meant. Knew what Luffy was implying.

"Hell no," Ace said softly, liking how firm and definite it sounded like despite the warm echoes of his voice. "How could you even think that? I was just striking against Grandpa. You know, how tight-lipped he is. Never telling me anything."

Luffy smiled, played the rim of his straw hat, saying just as softly, "You know it's to keep you from getting crazy. Grandpa knows how emotional you can get."

Ace leaped to catch Luffy in a choke hold, cutting off his oxygen supply just until little wheezes and struggles was all heard from Luffy, relenting his grip only when Luffy nodded against his chest and squeaked out strings of apologies. Because Ace didn't get emotional. Ace wasn't emotional. Not the slightest bit.

He watched Luffy catch his breath and struggle on to his feet whilst Ace chuted up, sat on his pillows, legs tucked in under his chin to keep it save from the jumping Luffy, hopped higher and higher on his bed until his head almost touched the ceilings. Ace smiled, shifted a little to sit comfortable under the quirks of the bed.

"Say Luffy, why are you coming now?" Ace heard himself speak, Luffy slowing down to a complete stop when he noticed Ace's drab grey eyes looking at him. "I've been here for roughly three months now. But you only came to visit me now. Couldn't you have come sooner?"

"I was looking for you this entire time—well, not _all_ the time because sometimes I fell asleep in between, and other times I'd even forget where I ended and had to start again. _"_ Listening to Luffy's sheepish laugh warmed his heart. Ace smiled and nodded, not bothering to comment at his stupidity since it was a part of the little oddities that shaped Luffy for who he was—a lovable idiot. "But it was still very difficult to find you! Grandpa likes to hide you from me. And nobody wanted to tell me where you were. I was searching every door in every ward one by one until I finally found yours."

Luffy was hopping on the bed again, higher and higher until he almost came close to hitting the ceiling. Ace's heart leaped up to his chest and he reached out, tugging Luffy back down, keeping him next to him where he was sound and safe. Luffy laugh. But Ace didn't find that funny at all. He glared at the still giggling Luffy but asked anyway. "So that's how you found me. But how did you know I was at the hospital?"

"Oh, you don't know yet?"

"Know what?" Ace asked, tilting his head towards Luffy, watching the realisation flash in his wide eyes before Luffy turned away, fixing his gaze at the yellow stains and deeply cracked ceiling.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you do. _You_ started this conversation." Ace gritted his teeth and grabbed Luffy's collar, hating how Luffy twitched his mouth and puckered his lips to whistle a strange tune, eyes wandering to the barred window. "Knock it off!"

"~I said, I don't know what you're taking about~"

"Don't you start now too. . . ." Ace muttered, felt the heat crawl up to his face but he restrained himself from punching that annoying expression away from Luffy, and shook him instead until Ace was sure he'd feel nauseous. "I'm already hating everybody in this hospital for this. But I swear Luffy if you keep stuff away from me _too_ then—"

"B-but— _I can't tell you!_ " Luffy finally managed to get out when Ace stopped shaking him. "You'll get another emotional attack if you know, Ace! _Besides_ —"

His eyebrow twitched. "Didn't we just make it clear that I don't get _emotional,_ much less have _emotional_ attacks. Just what do you take me for? What does _everybody_ take me for?!"

"Ace, _listen_. I've heard what Marco said. You're already five years back if I tell you now, you might get set back ten years—"

"I don't get this! I don't get any of this!" Ace's mind completely crashed. This was absolutely nonsense. Illogical. Absurd. Improbable. _Ludicrous_. _"_ What kind of person gets set back in years? Is this some kind of joke?! Are you in this with Grandpa and the police!?Are youhavingfun _laughing_ about this!?"

Luffy could barely utter a word when a pillow was flung at his face. He ducked but another one followed, hitting him square across the face. He rubbed his nose. _"Ow!_ Ace listen. . . _Ow!_ Hey! I said. . . _.Ow!_ **Stooop it!** "

Ace didn't listen and threw at Luffy at whatever he grabbed his hands on- his many pillows, the notebook on the floor, pencils in his drawers, the lamp on the table and the comic books strewn across the floor, hurling and hurtling whatever he could in his anger. In his tantrum. In his madness. In his anger. In his bitter rage.

Because throwing whatever at Luffy wasn't as painful as his own fists.

Was much better than meeting Luffy with his fists.

Much, much better than hurting him with his own fists.

The room was in total chaos when his anger deflated. Ace dropped the console he was about to throw on the floor, swiped his eyes across the room for his friend that he found buried under comics and his bed cover. Drained of energy, Ace dragged his feet to him, grabbed a handful of comics that he moved away from him, throwing the duvet off Luffy until he found his friend at last, blearily opening his eyes, awakening from his slumber and Ace smiled. It was only Luffy who could sleep under the havoc he rose.

"You're okay now?" Luffy yawned, rubbing his eyes and Ace smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"It's okay. I know you'd get like this. You've been getting like this a lot lately."

"Yeah, I'm sorry."

"I said, it's okay." Luffy frowned at Ace until he realised that the elder wasn't looking at him but the scratches on his arms. "It's okay. They don't hurt. I got worse from Grandpa."

"Yeah, I know. I'm just, you know, _confused_. I don't understand and nobody tries to explain. I'm getting sick of it."

". . . .Sorry. I thought not telling you was good. That it stops you from getting crazy. But I think it made it worse." Luffy bit his bottom lip. "Your head got worse because of it. I know Ace always likes to know things. Because Ace wants to be smart like that. But this time I thought it was me who knows better. But I was wrong."

"Nah, you were right." Ace lips twitched into a smile and he shook his head. "Not telling me was good. I might have gone _really_ crazy if you told me. I mean, I'm already actinglike this."

"No, Iwas wrong.I was just like _them_. Hiding things from you and thinking I know better. But Ace knows best. It's your head, anyway. If you wanna know I tell you. All of it."

Ace smiled. Really smiled. "I'm glad you're like this, Luffy. It's because of you that I can keep being sane. That I can keep going. Because it's you that has my back. I'm glad that you're my reason to live."

Luffy's bottom lip jutted out, quivering a little when Luffy said, "Ace are you. . .?"

"Nah, I'm not dying. I'm just glad." Ace tugged Luffy into his arms, circling his arms around his waist, placing his chin on Luffy's small shoulders, breathing in the strange wilderness emanating off Luffy's scent and listened to his own heart beat. . . .

Ace face scrunched up into a scowl when he thought—wait. . . _m_ _y own?_

Ace pushed Luffy back, placing his ear on his chest as he waited to hear the familiar thud of a heartbeat that never resounded.

 _How could this even be?_

Luffy watched curiously as Ace floundered with his arm, placing his middle and forefinger on the younger's wrist but nothing throbbed under his fingertips. Nichts. Nada. Niente. _Rien_.

"How?" Ace's eyes bulged, staring at Luffy who looked just as confused as him.

"What is it, Ace?"

" _How?"_

"What?"

" _How are you alive!?"_

Luffy's eyes widened, looking across the room for shelter when Ace gave into another emotional tantrum, scampering away from his place and tried his best to dive under the tables when Ace caught his leg and dragged him away, closer and closer towards him.

" _How, Luffy!_ How, could you be?! I'm going _crazy_! _I'm absolutely_ _going_ _crazy!"_

"Wait! Acccceeee! Let me explain!" he held onto the table leg for his dear life. "I can really explain! I have a heart! It's not with me! But it's in my body!"

"Are you a spirit or what?" Ace snorted and pulled tighter, moving the table toward him but not _Luffy_. Ace honestly doesn't want to know how he managed to grab the side of his bed _now_. Did that idiot stretch his arms or what? "Luffy! _Let go!"_

"No, you'll hit me with your hurt arms!" Luffy whined, crying out. "Stooop it! Ace, let gooo! I told you I can explaaaain!"

"Explain now!" was all Ace said when he let go, watching Luffy crash down from the force of their pulling, landing at the other side of his bed. "Why is your heart not beating?"

Luffy jumped up to his feet, not even groaning as he bubbled. "It's because I'm not really here! I don't really understand it myself but I'm something like a _mystery_."

" _Luffy_!"

"I'm serious! it's true! I can show you my body! It's in room 3309!"

Thoughts whisked inside Ace's head, but he only grabbed what he could, thinking if he tries to grab a hold of the situation his head might explode. "I'm staring at a ghost. I'm seeing a bloody ghost. Luffy, _the_ _ghost._ All this time I have been seeing a _fucking_ —"

"No! Acccceeee! I'm real! I'm alive! I'm not a ghost—though I'd like to see one. . .but I'm _real!"_

Ace heard him not. "My head is _broken_! I'm seeing _things_! It's like Grandpa said! I'm mental! I'm bonkers! I'm crazy! Absolutely crazy! _Luffy_ _is_ _a_ _. . . .!"_

"HERE! Luffy is HERE! I'm here and I'm as real as it gets! I'm ALIVE and NOT a cool GHOST! you're NOT seeing things but I'm actually HERE! ACE I'm HERE. I'M ALIVE AND I'M HE—Umpf!"

"I get it! Don't shout into my ear like that!" Ace gritted through his teeth, extra hardening his grip on Luffy's mouth for a moment for emphasis before he let go and wedged a finger in his ear. Who could have know that Luffy could scream so loud?

"But I'm here, Ace. I'm real and—"

"—I get it, Luffy."

"—you're not crazy. Don't listen to Grandpa or what anybody else says. You're not crazy. Not bonkers. And definitely not a lunatic—"

"I said, _I get it!_ I'm fine. But I don't understand this, though." Although Ace's face was indifferent face, his stricken feelings shimmered through his orbs _._ "Just why are you like this? What happened to you?"

"Dunno." Luffy shrugged, dug his pinky inside his nostril, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling. "But I think Nami said something about being _stuck_ in _time."_

"Stuck in time?" Ace echoed, every visible line of his face masked with disbelief.

Luffy shrugged again, wiped his finger off his shirt. "I don't get but it sounds cool."

"It sounds absurd." Ace countered and crossed his arms, not really expecting an answer when he said, "Can it get anymore bizarre?"

But Luffy's brows furrowed at that and Ace was surprised to find Luffy actually thinking about that, eventually his eyes brightened and he nodded. "Yeah, it can! Nami also said that Ace is _stuck_ inside his _head_."

"What?"

"I said that Ace—"

" _What?"_

"I said—"

" _What?"_ Luffy clamped his mouth shut when Ace livid eyes fixed on him. _"_ That's even worse than you telling me I'm crazy! That's like you telling me _I'm_ _lunatic_."

"But Ace I only said that—"

"I'm _not_ stuck in my head. I didn't set my age back, either. I don't do _any_ of that! _I'm okay!_ "

"If you say so." Luffy hummed and kicked his legs back and forth. "But it's true though."

"Luffy. . ." Ace warned, but knowing Luffy he'd ignore it anyway. He didn't disappoint.

"It is true! I'll prove it to you." Luffy glanced at Ace with all the solemnity he could summon as he asked, "How old are you?"

Ace snorted and crossed his arms, defiantly, pointedly looking away. "Age doesn't prove anything. You're going to be like the others and say I'm _**twenty**_ when I know I'm _**fifteen.**_ "

"Okay! So I need an other example. . ." Luffy mumbled, not really listening to Ace, gazing at the dark through narrowed eyes as he was once again deep in thought. Ace felt a throb at his temple but he quieted down and let the younger think as much as he needed. Until Luffy snapped a finger as he came up with something.

"What is it?" Ace muttered, already bracing himself.

"Ace, what is your last memory?"

"My last memory?" Ace parroted and thought, coming to realised that he did not know which memories was the last one. "I don't know actually."

"Then what do you remember?"

"I remember the time we raided the kitchen together."

Luffy smiled. "That was when I was ten and you thirteen."

Ace blinked but then smiled. "What about the one Grandpa hit you so bad you had to be hospitalised."

Luffy brows furrowed, leaning closer as he breathed out, "Which one? There had been many."

Ace hid a smile and he shifted in his seat. "You know, when the cat was stuck at our neighbour's roof. Grandpa thought you trying to kill yourself when you were only trying to get it down."

Luffy shuddered in discomfort, face contorting in dislike. "I think, I was eight and you twelve."

"Shouldn't it be eleven?" Ace smirked at the bad maths but it soften soon enough to a smile. Ace played with the hem of his shirt, daring to ask, "And what about that time when were walking through the rain?" Ace glanced up. "You know, that time when you were waiting from me and those people showed up, trying to do us in. How old were we then?"

Luffy regarded him silently. "You remember that?"

"Sort of yeah," Ace tilted his head, curiously. "What about it?"

"Nothing except it happened when I was sixteen and you nineteen, Ace." Luffy regarded him strangely. "I thought you were fifteen, how can you even remember that?"

"I don't know, Luffy. But doesn't that mean, my head is fine?" Ace smiled but there was no joy. "I disproved your point. I'm not mentally de-aged."

"Hmm, about this. Do you know, _Mar_ _kus_?"

Ace frowned, thinking back. "The pineapple-man?"

"What do you know about him?"

"Nothing much. Except he's on crutches and he got me a bad headache."

"He was your best-friend—and you got him on crutches with your explosions."

"Explosions?"

Luffy nodded. "Playing with fire was your hobby."

"Oh," s _o Marco got unlucky with_ _my_ _experiments._ Ace knew that he always had a strange attraction to fire. He shook his head and recalled words of bombs and Whitebeard's large company project. ". . . .And what about the Whitebeard Corporation thing?"

"You used to work there. Started out around two years ago. I think you were. . .eighteen?"

"Yeah, eighteen." Ace nodded at the maths, brows furrowed. "I used to work?"

"Beats me how you did it." Luffy's clueless wide eyes stared back at him. "I always thought you and work don't fit together. Just like I don't fit together with it."

"That's what I thought too just now." Ace muttered, stifling a yawn, crawling back to his covers. "Come on, let's sleep. This whole thing made me tired."

"You mean confused." Luffy retorted back cheekily but still snuggled under the covers and Ace was tempted, very tempted to kick him off the bed right then and there. But he was too tired to do so. Ace pulled the duvet up to his chin and turned over, much more tired than he initially expected. He felt so weary as though his body was made of lead that dragged him down, down, down, _down_ —

Ace was halfway to dreamland when the cover move and the sunken space next to him ease up slowly, blearily he opened one eye but only saw darkness and felt a breath fan his face when Luffy voice faded into the darkness.

" _Come visit me tomorrow, okay? Room 3309. It's been lonely lately, so don't forget, Ace."_

" _You can't forget, Ace."_

* * *

Ace woke up with a blaring headache and burning eyes. Almost automatically his hurt hand moved to grab his duvet to cover his eyes from the sun's hot rays when he realised he couldn't move it. No, he could feel it. Panicked, Ace forced his eyes opened, momentarily blinded and disoriented by the light and strange blurs of colours that melted his surroundings to greyish-white and blotches to greenish-crimson until it faded away and Ace could recognise his room. His bed. His covers. His Grandpa that tightly clasped his hurt hand in his own.

He raised his head slightly, shifting his body upwards enough to bolster up against his pillows, breathing out deeply when he was done, completely winded, tired. Ace took in a deep breath and sat up, finding his strength was almost leaving him—what was wrong with him?

He scratched his head with his hand that somehow felt so _light._ Ace blinked and looked down. The cast was removed. Didn't Law told him it would stay for another two weeks? Ace frowned, turning his arm in front of him. It looked like it was fine. Perhaps it healed quicker than expected. Quicker than Law expected. Ace snickered at Law's impaired sense of judgement without a hint of amusement. But rather some strange kind of satisfaction he couldn't put a finger where it came from.

Carefully, slipping away from his Grandpa's grip, Ace trudged along the floor, creaking the door open under his hold of the doorknob and walked around the hospital in search of Luffy's room that supposedly was the other side of the hospital. Ace snorted, now that it was day time and his mind sharp and fully functioning, the absurdity of yesterday night's happenings didn't escape him. His rational mind was screaming at Ace for having mistaken his dream for reality. There was noway Luffy could come out of nowhere. There was nowhere for his heart not to be beating. Noway for suddenly disappearing into the darkness.

Where could he be disappearing off to anyway?

If Luffy only returned to his room, surely he could visit him today too. There was no need for Ace to chase him down. It wasn't like they were playing cat and mouse. Hide and seek. Pointless looking was only a waste of time.

Ace counted the numbers. Counting up to a hundred and then another set of zeros. Walking up and down the stairs, rounding corners and padding down long hall ways, listening to the beeps of different rooms, some steady; some frantic. Ace saw cursing Doctors and the whirls of nurses that flitted and scattered every where, from room to room. And yet none uttered a word to him. Not one glanced at him. No-one noticed him.

Strange, Ace thought, looking around, normally they would be ushering back to his room or call Rob Lucci to haul him back to his confinement—to his little but suffocating room.

Ace rounded a corner, now completely sure to have entered the counting range of three thousand three hundred. His gaze swiped across the wide hallway, catching glimpses of silver letterings craved into the walls in bold, cursive writing. _Intensive Care._

Ace threw a suspicious around him, slightly wondering why Luffy would be here. He was fine. He wasn't hurt. There were no injuries on him yesterday. His knitted brows drew down at the illogicality and Ace cursed at his inability to figure out why an unhurt Luffy would even be admitted to a hospital room— _why_ , he would be sleeping here if he was fine.

Maybe Grandpa is keeping him here too, Ace thought, listening to the beats of his echoing footsteps that crept back to his ears and muffled the quiet halls, stilling looking out for the number 3309. The number that would supposedly be Luffy's room.

When he finally reached the end of the hall, Ace stared blankly ahead. Stared right at the door that was openly lying to him. Because Ace was sure his own eyes weren't lying to him. But just in case he trailed each number again. Just to be safe. Just to make sure he was seeing correctly. That he was too careless. Too deep in thought. Messed up his counting somehow. Made a mistake that confused his head.

Ace turned around and stared at the adjacent doors. His young mind still baffled to a still stop. He whirled back, jogging down the hallway to read the numbers again, counting forwards slowly. Out loud. Carefully. Yet again.

He stepped passed the room _3304._

Room _3305._

Then room _3306_.

Room _3307_.

And then it was that lying door.

It was the last door.

With the number _3308_.

* * *

Ace returned to his room with a headache. A headache so strong not even kneading his temple could ease up.

Where was Luffy?

Ace entire thoughts spiralled out of control, heading to every direction to somehow explain these illogical sequences of events. But he gave up soon after. What was the point to understand something that was too absurd to even consider. Ace snorted and kicked the absent dirt on the ground, shoving his head deep inside his pocket.

Luffy probably forgot his room number.

Mixed them up in his stupid head.

Ace sighed, walked aimlessly back to his confinement, cracked the door open as silent as he could as he trudged on in his misery.

 _I only wanted to see Luffy for awhile._

Ace sighed and pulled his covers up, only desiring to crawl under his bedsheets and block the entire world out. It was only Luffy he wanted. Wanted to speak to. Wanted to laugh with. Have fun with.

But Luffy wasn't here.

Ace sighed and tugged again on the ends of his cover and then again. Harder. But it still didn't budge. Ace glared at it. Glared at its resistance to move. Until he noticed his Grandpa was sleeping on it, clutching the cover so tight it fisted in his hand. Ace frowned, absolutely sure that if it were to be his hand instead of that cloth, it would be completely crushed under the pressure of Grandpa's dangerous fist.

Glancing once more across the room, Ace retreated back, slowly closed the door behind him.

There was nothing for him here.

* * *

It was the first time since a long, long time Ace noticed how clear the sky was. How beautiful it would be to just let go. Feeling the wind graze his skin as he crashes against the soft clouds. How beautiful it would be for him to swim across the blueness.

How beautiful it would be just to let go.

Ace sighed, shifted in his seat as he dangled his feet, leaning forward just enough to see the small sized cars driving along the street, the mini-sized people walking across the zebra cross, leaving shops or hurrying across the roads.

Ace leaned forward just enough to see the world flying by below him, flying without him.

So happy without him.

Ace sighed. Lost in thought. So deep in thought he hadn't heard the creaking sound of the door, clicking sounds thudding across the ground to join him.

"Why am I not surprised to see you here?" It was a voice strangely familiar to him. Ace canted his head, not surprised to see Marco nearing him, either.

"Are you my stalker now? Or did Grandpa tell you to keep an eye on me?" Ace asked, gazing back to the busy street stories below him and felt the morning breeze wafting his face. "I'm fine by myself. So you can just go back wherever you came from."

Marco only cracked a smile, leaned his crutches against the wall, slowly slouched down to sit on the floor close to Ace and at the same time not. "Just so you know, I'm been coming here since I've been hospitalised. Made time pass, you see."

Ace gazed back to the streets, didn't try to dwell on the idea that Marco might be lonely—that not having many visitors was taking a toll on him too—if he was missing an idiot too.

"Watching the busy streets made me remember the usual hectic days that used to wait for me out there. It made staying in the hospital much more bearable. Especially when you were prohibited from moving around during the first week."

Ace smiled knowingly, thinking back to the obsessive nurses and their strangled cries, commanding him to stay on bed. He canted his head back and rose a brow. "And that because of your leg?"

"Yeah. They called it _tibia fracture_ , yoi. Fancy way to say I got a broken leg to be honest. A bit foreign too."

"It's foreign." Ace frowned, wondering whether Marco was trying to make him laugh with dead jokes.

"Doesn't matter. It could have been worse."

"Good. Because I'm not going to apologise." Ace muttered, glancing at Marco curiously when his eyes hardened and his voice became poignantly sharp.

"Apologise for what exactly?"

"Burning you." Ace replied without a beat, wondering why Marco's face became extremely hardened for a moment. Did he harbour ill feelings still? Ace didn't judge him to be a person that held on to grudges. "Luffy said you were like that because of me. Because you came in contact with one of my explosions."

" _What?"_ Marco's sharp eyes fell on him. _"_ What did _Luffy_ say exactly?"

Ace eye brows twitched at Marco's strange tone. It was too tight, too constricted as though he was summing his entire will power not to lash out. Not to physically attack. Not to mention the way he pronounced Luffy's name. Ace fisted his hands, quite sure that Marco thought Luffy was just a figment of his imagination, just like the others did.

 _And here I though he had nothing to do with Grandpa._

"Nothing that warrants your interest. Just keep your mouth shut about that. Before I go and sear it shut." the words tumbled out his mouth before he could stop it—before he could realise what he said. Ace turned to Marco, who looked just surprised as him.

"Is that you, man?" Marco asked after awhile and Ace could still recognise the tiny speck of hope shimmering in the depths of his onyx's eyes. And with rising bitterness surging in his chest, Ace knew it wasn't him that Marco was speaking to. He was speaking to the elder Ace. To that twenty year old Ace that everyone knew. The twenty year old him that Ace had never gotten a chance to meet.

"If it would be, what would you do?" Ace asked instead, watching the hope diminish in a fraction of a second and the cold exterior of Marco's face return, still watching him through narrowed eyes.

"I would question him. And his real intentions." he answered without a second, gaze swiping across the bust streets before he locked his stern eyes back with Ace. "You might act like you know but it's glaringly obvious that you don't. So listen to my words and don't speak of explosions and burnings lightly. In fact, don't speak of them at all. Not to anyone. It would be troublesome if your lack of knowledge would undo you."

Ace brows knitted harshly. "Why are you talking about?"

"Ace, if anyone else would have listened—someone who didn't know about your mental age and amnesia—they would have testified to Smoker to have heard you confess. It would be enough to lock you up behind bars."

"Is this about me being a suspect of this bombing case?" Ace asked with rising interest. "The one that blasted up this major project of Whitebeard Inc.? Where I have supposedly been working at?"

"Supposedly?" Marco stared at him for seconds. "Who told you this? If you were fifteen you shouldn't be remembering any of that."

"I don't remember. I just read some files. Luffy told me some parts too."

" _Luffy_ told you a lot of things, didn't he?" Marco asked sceptically, still pronouncing his friend's name with that weird accent that had Ace brows sinking further. "How come nobody has been able to meet him yet?"

Ace scowled at his hidden implication. "I'm not seeing him in my mind. He came yesterday night. He told me lot of things that I'm not understanding yet."

Marco nodded, still sceptical. "And he said you worked at Whitebeard Inc.?"

Ace nodded, trying to fish out the details from the depths of his mind. "For two years only. I was eighteen."

Marco was still sceptical. "Anything else?"

"Nothing. Except that it was me that got you in crutches."

"It wasn't you. At least I'd like to think it wasn't you. If it was you then. . . ." he shook his head, a tired look in his eyes as he mumbled. "I don't want to think about what would happen if it _was_ you. . ."

Ace frowned, not understanding what the big deal was. To him it was a minor matter. A burn will heal. The pain will fade away—

"Ace, it won't just go away." Marco muttered as though he could read his thoughts, and perhaps in away he _could_. It wasn't particularly hard to trace Ace's line of thoughts. It was predictable unlike the sudden stunts Luffy pulled out of nowhere. "I was lucky enough to get away with only a broken bone compared to those that were crushed under the pillars and fire. Compared to those that have lost their lives under the fire."

"People. . . .have died?" Ace started off slowly and hesitant, ". . . Why?"

"When explosions go off just that tend to happen, you know." Marco mumbled, tracing a finger up and down his casted leg. "Intentionally robbing the lives of my dear brothers and sisters. . . .it's not something I can easily forgive—if I would ever forgive, that's it."

Ace swallowed, gripped the fabric of his shirt as he asked, "And if it was me? If I say it was me. . .would you push me off this building?" Ace glanced up, glancing at Marco's hardened eyes. "Would you push me off this building without a second thought? Would you take my life in an instant? As compensation?"

"No," Marco spoke slowly. "No, I wouldn't push you off. I would fry you alive in a coal pit. Rip your skin apart with a needle, spray acid on your flesh and tear your _entire_ entrails out through your nose with nothing but a hook and string. I would make suffer so much pain I, _myself_ , would be dehumanised as a person."

Ace started long at Marco until his lips twitched up into a smile that echoed no laughter. "Good. Because falling off wouldn't be satisfactory at all."

Marco's eyes widened a little when Ace shifted in his seat, pulling his legs up to stand on the railing with nothing to hold onto but his own balance.

"Hey—" Marco started, trying to stand up as quick as possible when his hand couldn't reach Ace, couldn't tug his shirt, couldn't sit him back down.

Ace ignored him, glad that Marco wasn't close enough to drag him down. He smiled at the wind that pushed him slightly unbalanced. Ace felt never so much liberated. Never felt so much lighter. It was like the wind was carrying him. To the heavens. To the earth. To his downfall.

 _So this is what it means to be hanging on a tight line._

Ace turned on his heels, slowly stepping along the railing backward with his eyes gazed straight at Marco, daring him to come closer and get him down. Ace was enjoying this. He wanted to enjoy it a moment longer.

"You know," Ace started slowly, dropping his gaze just enough to see the red and yellow cars driving by below him. "Sometimes I wish I was a bird, free and light. The wind could just take—take me up or down—it doesn't matter where. I'd be happy either way. Because I'd see Luffy either way."

"Luffy isn't in heaven. Neither is he in hell, Ace."

"No," Ace agreed, ignoring the increasing nervousness in Marco's expressions. "Because Luffy's in my head. Because he meets me in my sleep and leaves me when I wake. Because nobody sees him and deems me as insane. Because I—"

"Ace, that's okay. That's enough. Get down before people will think you're really going to jump—"

"Let them think exactly that. They should be expecting this from me anyway. To them— _t_ _o_ _those_ _people_ —I'm already insane."

"Listen, Ace—"

"You're acting like this because you're scared, aren't you? Just like them, you are scared too," Ace interrupted. "You scared of the headlines in tomorrow's newspapers _if_ I jump. You're scared of _Grandpa_ —Grandpa, who will go mad. Sacred for your siblings that will be affected. Scared of the events that will follow my death."

"What are you even talking about!?" Marco tried to grab a him but Ace was still so far, even though he was so close. He gritted his teeth. "It doesn't matter if they think you're mad! Why would listen to those people who don't know anything? don't even know _you_ but the _you_ they have heard from others!?" the realisation dawned on Marco and he reached out—to grab Ace—to pull him away—to keep him away. But Ace only walked back a couple of steps, firmly holding his balance against the rushing wind that was trying to knock him over.

"You're scared." Ace repeated, quieter than before. "You're scared that the newspaper will read ' _B_ _ombing suspect_ _committed_ _suicide out of guilty feelings_ ' just like Grandpa is. Just like Pigeon Boss Lucci is. Just like Long Nose Kaku and supervisor Kalifa are. You're scared just like the rest of _them_."

"Ace—"

"You're scared. But I'm not." Ace continued. Still not listening. "Too bad I'm not. My life was always dangling on a thread. Always. This makes no different. Jumping or not. Flying or not. Meeting Luffy or not. I'm not scared. I'm not scared at all. There's no reason for me to be." Ace laughed quietly, enjoying the sheer look of terror crossing Marco's face when he realised the gravity of Ace's words.

"Why would there be a reason for me to be scared?" Ace whispered anyway, letting them sink into Marco's head in hopes he understood that there was nothing binding Ace to life. Nothing binding him to exist. Nothing binding him to stay here. In this place. In this hospital. In this room. This confinement. This _cage_.

He had lost his reason to live. And in a way, Ace couldn't have felt any freer than the moment his feet tilted off the railing.

Couldn't have felt any freer than the wind pushing against him. Carrying him. Holding him.

Couldn't have felt any freer than witnessing the sheet lock of terror quadrupling on Marco's face.

Because for the first time—

For the first time Ace could remember—

He didn't listen—

To anybody.

He ignored all warnings. Rushed headlong into this. And he couldn't have felt any freer than taking his life into his own hand.

Couldn't have felt any freer than disobeying what was expected of him.

Couldn't have felt any freer than setting out a path for himself.

Ace grabbed the window sill two stories below. He didn't think he'd actually make it. Didn't think he was strong enough to make it. But whoever his twenty year old self was, he was illogical, improbable and crazy just like Luffy. Ace let go and landed with both feet planted on a balcony below that he didn't think belong to any patient, but with his two hands cupped around his mouth he shouted to the stunned Marco his final words.

"I'm going to find out everything myself! I don't need _you_ _!_ I don't need _Grandpa!_ And I certainly don't need _anyone else!_ You can all just screw yourselves to hell!"

If there was any recognition flickering in Marco's eyes this time, Ace sure as hell didn't see it when he jumped his way down, bit by bit, crawling like a monkey from window to window, holding onto to edges and sills until he reached the emergency staircase, jumped over and hopped down the last steps until he climbed over the locked fence till his feet touched the ground.

This will be his new beginning.

Where Ace will grab his freedom.

He took a deep breath and felt finally free.


	2. Living

**Living**

* * *

 _So this is freedom._

Walking aimlessly through a street. Having no-one at your throat. None to call you back. Ordering to stay in bed.

To stay put.

Not to move.

Ace took another sniff of the fresh afternoon air, free of antibacterial stenches drifting in and out of hospitals. Free of the pungent smell that followed each ward, hung on the personnel like second skin.

 _This is freedom._

A place where his feisty Grandpa cannot reach.

A place where no crazy Law can drive him up a wall.

Where no apathetic Marco can sizzle hatred in his mind. In his heart.

A place where he was absolutely free.

And. . . .

. . . .a place where there was no Luffy.

A place where he was utterly alone.

* * *

Ace rounded a corner, feet dragging him along a path his own mind wasn't even aware of—not that his mind even bother to care. Couldn't care.

Not without Luffy.

"How can this be freedom?" Ace wondered aloud and stuffed his hands in his pockets, ignoring the strange looks and glances passers-by threw at him. Probably wondering why, a boy short of being twenty was walking around with shorts and short-sleeved shirt during a cold day in spring. Ace snorted and gave them a scowl. _Why do you care?_

He rounded another corner, heading away from the busy streets, down to a strangely empty sidewalk.

A sidewalk that got crowded only seconds later.

Dragged pipes clanked against the ground, echoing in his ears so loud Ace stopped and turned, watched a pack of blokes streaming out of the nearest alleyways and circle about him. Ace felt his hands twitch into fists almost automatically.

 _There goes my freedom. . ._

"Afternoon, Ace. My dear brother _._ We've been waiting for you. Why don't you let us welcome you? _"_

"Oh really?" Ace felt his lips twist in displeasure, glancing at burly man that was nearing him and almost involuntarily Ace's eyes flickered to the monkey that hung off his shoulder and the pistol clutched within that animal's grip. _What the hell. . ._

"What's this supposed to be? A bloody circus? A reiteration of the medieval ages?" Ace tilted his head up, gazing at the man down his nose despite the obvious height difference between them. But Ace didn't care. His eyes landed on the sword bolted on the man's belt and with a snort Ace shifted his weight and crossed his arms. "Or are you here to spill blood? Because if you are I'm not exactly interested."

" _You arrogant punk!"_

" _Rotten bastard!"_

" _You dare speaking to Doma like that!?"_

Ace paid no heed to the offended snots, calling out somewhere from the crowd and kept his eyes focused on that man—on that _Doma_ —the weird animal lover that had a strange beard that reminded Ace of freaking bush of all things.

"Seems like you came here first."

Ace turned around, his eyes automatically fell on a head that was partially shaved off except a bunch of wild pink strands that fell passed the stranger's shoulders. It took a while for Ace to realise he was staring at a person, a pale middle-aged man to be exact. Ace burst out in harsh laughter. "This is really a circus."

"Shut it, trash," the newcomer spit out through sharp teeth that could have belonged to a shark, his hand fastening around the handle of his sword. "We're here ta finish business with ya."

"Did you really thing you'd get away with this?" another one snarled and Ace was surprised to find a sizeable amount of people hoarding behind the partially bold man as well.

 _Just like that monkey carrying, bearded guy._

At this time Ace couldn't help but wonder if today was some traditional festival that he didn't know about.

"This isn't a bloody festival!"

"Oh?" Ace rose a brow, wondering whether he spoke out loud before he made a face and his nose wrinkled in absolute dislike when the pink haired man unsheathed his sword and snarled, tongue licking over his sharp teeth with too much spit. _"Eww."_

 _That's even worse than having Luffy's boogie swiped on me!_

Ace shut his eyes and turned away, trying his best to suppress the shudders form coiling down his spine. He absolutely did _not_ just _see_ that.

But he did.

Ace shook his head and cringed, that image entered his mind and he gurgled and gagged at full force to get rid of this sickeningfeeling—

"Would you stop it already!?"

"That's enough!"

But Ace heard not. Cared not. Because that image appeared in his mind like a slow moving video, tongue poking out, swiping across protruded teeth with way too much spit dripping down.

" _Ewww!"_

Ace tried to erase it. He really did. But it was impossible. Couldn't be done. He failed. It _stayed._ Ace forced his eyes opened, more than dozen eyes stared at him bewildered and astounded. But Ace really did not care at this point. Too busy paying attention to the fire scorching fire sizzling in his chest.

Ace's furious eyes landed on the bald pink haired. Adamant to make him pay twice back as he gnashed his teeth, stomping toward him only to realise he was walking on air.

 _What?_

"What's wrong with you?"

Ace tried to wiggle out of Doma's steel grip, not at all liking the way he was practically lifted off the ground like some _toy_. He grunted and swung his arms, but his fist couldn't even reach Doma's face. Ace's face reddened in anger. Wasn't he supposed to be twenty? How could he be too short to punch somebody's face? How embarrassing! "Let me down, you oversized punk!"

"Answer my question first." Doma's voice was calm but his eyes were narrowed, contained curiosity within the lines of contempt spiralling in his orbs. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing!" Ace grunted, glaring sharply at him as he gritted through his teeth. "Let me down! Now!"

"There's definitely something wrong with you," the pink haired said, sheathing his sword. "But I don't really care. You are fine enough to be released from the hospital, so you _must_ fine enough to deal with our retribution."

"Retribution?" Ace asked, glaring daggers at him. "What retribution?"

"Don't act like you're clueless!" some nobody shouted from the crowd with too much anger cuddling his voice, it sounded more like the screech of an upset cat than and the bellowing voice of an adult. "Imitate a ten year old's speech pattern as much as you like, we'll never fall for it!"

" _You can never feign ignorance!"_

" _We know you're not innocent!"_

" _Our retribution will put out brethren spirits to rest!"_

" _After your sinful acts, it's the only act deemed as fair!"_

The pulsating vein on Ace's temple throbbed so hard it threatened to implode as he mumbled under his breath, "Retribution _this,_ retribution _that—_ I got zero clues what you're talking about!"

It was official now. They were the _worst_ group of people he had ever socialised with. Worst than Marco who literally spoke in riddles. Worst than Grandpa who swallowed answers like he'd down an entire buffet. Worst than his supervisor Kalifa, Long-nose Kaku and Pigeon Boss, who could only stare at him tight-lipped just like his own Grandpa _._

 _I'm done with them._

 _I'm absolutely done with them._

"Big guy—yes, I'm talking to _you_! Let me go! _"_

There was a sudden silence. Thick and impregnable, at least Ace thought someone dared to mutter, quietly under their breath, "Maybe there _is_ something wrong with his head. . ."

"My head is absolutely fine, you asshole!" Ace kicked his loosened boot at that person, hitting him square on his face. "Dare say that again and I'll jump on you like the coyotes do in summer, you afro-headed freak!"

There was another collective silence. One in which they stared at Ace with astounded faces, mouth wide opened until they shut it, their brows harsh knitted and twisted lips with snarling responses.

"You had us there for a moment, Ace. I can't believe I was worried for you even for a second." Doma said, words dripping with acid as he hurled Ace across the ground, skidding him across the pavement, scraping a knee or two and his freshly healed elbow was already hurting.

 _Maybe it wasn't healed as I thought._

Ace grunted but didn't howl in pain at the ceaseless stinging. He didn't waste a second to glare at the crowd that was getting to him. Ace opened his mouth but was completely overruled by the surrounding echoes of anger.

" _Making a show like that!"_

" _What a coward! Acting like a little kid!"_

" _To burn our brethren like that and then expect forgiveness!"_

" _To trying to exact our sympathies for a shit like you!"_

"What's your problem!?" Ace snapped as he stood up, patted the dirt away from his clothes as he canted his head back to face them with dangerous twinkling eyes that screamed of anger. First they disgust him, annoy and then injure him. And now they were even having the guts to _mock_ him. Ace cracked his fingers. "If you wanna fight then come on!I'll kick your asses before you can even count to three."

"What? You think— _umph!"_

Before he could finish, Ace rammed his knee right into the face of that afro-head and placed his hands on his shoulder to launch himself over him. Ace dropped his wide stretched out leg like a sledgehammer, kicking the head of the person right behind that afro-head.

Ace was a little too smug to watch his victim drop, crashing down the floor with a cry so loud it shook the others from their stupors, awakening new vigour and hatred for Ace as they mindlessly charged forward, swords and daggers raised and whirled around, flung at him.

Ace manoeuvred around them with quick, sudden, light steps, barely giving them the time to change the course of their attacks, the dull edge of their swords cracking on skulls and backs that never once belonged to him. In fact, more than half were down due to nothing other than but his quick reflexes and their own stupidity.

Ace threw his head back and laughed. Because how could that even be?

A punch appeared from his peripheral vision and Ace ducked low, balanced enough to swipe his attacker's legs off the floor, and with unexpected flexibility and strength Ace placed a hand on the ground, raised his legs high enough to kick two charging faces at once. He pushed off, stood on the ground again, surprised to find that his legs felt so _light_ and _weird_ as though once familiar motions were performed after _so long ago._

Ace lifted his leg and shook off the tingling sensation, setting it back down right after the other as he re-affirmed its position on the ground and raised his fists in front his face. Whether he was boxer or judo master, Ace had absolutely no clue as he knocked one out with a one-two punch after he threw another one over his shoulder. But it didn't matter exactly what it was or what he did, except that it felt _extremely_ _good_. It was as if Ace came in contact with an almost tangible part of himself that he hasn't felt in _ages_.

Ace grinned wild and ferocious, enjoying the cracks of bones and metallic taste in his mouth and the yelps of pain and adrenaline rush that sped Ace up- that quickened his pace and the force of his attacks.

He was relishing in it. Enjoying it. Loving it.

But it ended not long after. They were winded, sprawled across the floor, groaning and mumbling swears over the ache and pain.

Ace smiled, looked around him with certain euphoria that he only received each time he marred his own skin. He looked down and flexed his bloodied fist before he traced his fingers over the scabbed traces of the faces engraved on the back of his hand.

Far into the distance, heard the unmistakable sound of nearing police sirens- coming closer and closer. And Ace couldn't help but think of his Grandpa as he glanced around the aftermath, grinning awry.

 _I wonder what he would say to this?_

"This isn't the end, Ace," the pink haired said, venom seething from each of his words whilst Doma issued orders out to those who could still move their legs.

With a final look at his destruction, Ace shrugged his shoulders and stuffed his hands into his pockets, turning his back onto the chaos that might befall behind him.

* * *

It didn't take him long to notice his blood dripped shirt nor the slight rips in his trousers. But when the adrenaline rush wore off and the actual extent of his injuries screamed for attention, Ace felt like his lips were on fire. His jaw felt like it was crushed by a hammer. And his rips hurt so much, as though an oversized pig jumped on it.

But at least his nose bleed stopped.

Ace never felt so tired in his life. Well, except the times Law drugged him up with his weird medical potions. But that didn't exactly count. He sprawled out onto the green grass and closed his eyes, ignoring his wobbly legs that decided to hurt now too. Ace sighed and adjusted his position, back hurting against the hard ground and strangely he was missing the soft pillows that Nurses kept giving to him. Ace sighed and tried to nap the pain away when something kicked the soles of his shoes.

"Don't just lie here like some shitty dog."

Ace stared at a blond with a weird curly eyebrow.

"Damn, you look like shit." he raised the plastics bags he has been carrying and dangled them above Ace's blinking face. "Come on, I'm cooking dinner soon anyway. Might as well fix you something. Chopper can get a look at your wounds as well. He wouldn't like to know that Luffy's brother lay K.O on the streets like this. . ."

The words tuned out. A warm, pulsating throb sloshed against Ace's ears. His heart thumbed in his chest. His legs almost gave out as he scrambled to his feet, but he held on—held onto the man's dress shirt with his bloodied fists and tried his best to keep his legs from buckling under him.

The blond reached out, gripped his elbow tight and threw an arm around Ace's shoulder to holster him, wordlessly as the blond smoked through his cigarette.

Ace stared at him. Stared at the onyx's eyes of the blond. Fished for lies or deceit. For mockery or jests. But he found none. Absolutely none.

The thoughts were whirling inside his head, like a paper bag in a storm, and Ace let himself go without a beat but with eyes so earnest he dared to bring the question passed his lips. Dared to hope for an answer that would lift his heart to the skies. "You. . .you know Luffy?"

The blond's brows that twitched into a frown before evened out and he smiled too, softly against the wind. "Yeah sure, I know him. Who in this planet could live without knowing someone as loud and obnoxious as Luffy?"

Ace felt as though he didn't know how to breathe.

In fact, he couldn't breathe.

He passed out.

* * *

Ace felt the sun rays burn his eyelids, heard the chirps of humming birds and wondered whether he would see the morning sun flitting through his barbed window, alighting the white washed walls of his room that reminded Ace of confinement and eternal solidarity despite the many Doctors and Nurses rushing in and out of his room.

Ace cursed softly under his breath. But he kept his eyes shut, regardless. Spending another day dreaming through a fabricated reality set out from his mind—his wild, imaginative mind won't harm him.

 _It's better than facing reality anyway._

A _reality were Luffy was an illusion._

His eyebrows twitched at the thought as he shifted away from the sunlight that now scorched his eyelids and his head was received by something squishy. It reminded him of too plushy pillows that soften against his skin and lulled him to sleep so many nights before, even now sinking under the weight of his arms circled around it, hugged on him like Luffy did whenever he couldn't sleep. . . .

Ace dug deeper into it, buried his face into it and breathed in its non-existent soft smell that fuelled the pain wringing in his heart. That ripped his heart opened with the stark realisation that—that—

 _It wasn't Luffy._

His hands fisted the soft material that deceived him, took his breath away and stung like hot water in his eyes. He clenched his teeth, contorted his face as he forced eyes opened and stared at the cloth wrapped around him.

"A blanket. . ." Ace rasped out through the constriction of his voice, running his fingers against the soft fabric. "A bloody blanket. . ."

"What's wrong with the blanket?"

Ace didn't recognise that grunting voice. But he didn't care enough to raise his head. Instead he fisted that damned blanket and hurled against the back of that person's head, who thought that green coloured hair looked cool on tanned skin.

The man cursed and shot him a glare from the rear mirror. But Ace didn't care. Didn't care he was sitting in a car with a stranger. Didn't care that he had zero fucks how he'd got here in the first place.

He only cared for the fact that he was haunted by _memories_. Haunted by inexplicable thoughts wherever he went.

 _I want it to stop._

 _I want this to end._

Ace unbuckled the seat belt and opened the door. Not caring that they were on an open street. That cars were zooming in from left and right. But whether it was a highway or the road to a supermarket, Ace's determination couldn't be altered.

The algae coloured haired cursed heavens at him, glaring and shouting whatever nonsense under his breath as he steered the car to the roadside, but Ace already jumped out. Honks blared, and profanities thickened the air as wheels screeched ear splitting loud across the asphalt.

Slowly Ace sat up, disappointed to notice that only his skinned knees burned like hot smoke. He glanced down, barely recognising the pink flesh under the ooze of blood, his scraped palms seemed the same.

 _Couldn't it have been worse?_

"Are your screws missing!?" the algae-haired shouted, puffing out of nowhere and grabbed Ace's hands, scrutinising his bleeding palms and the ripped skin of his knees before he rose his eyes and glared daggers at the aloof expression on Ace's face.

"What?" Ace raised his chin, scowling right back at Algae. "Are you going to tell me I can't do this to myself too? Point fingers at me and say I'm mad?"

"I don't care if that accident made you loony—made your head so messed up that common sense is lost to you." Algae shot a fiery glare at him. "Just don't go jumping out of my car!"

"Then you shouldn't have taken me in the first place!" Ace shouted right back and clenched his burning fingers, the blood dripped down on the floor, his shoes and his shirt. But Ace didn't care, whirled his back to him and stomped away regardless of the incessant burn that followed.

" _You_ , damn brat!" Algae seized his arm back, his hurt arm that still wasn't healed. Ace fixed a glare at him and yanked it back.

"Let me go, you asshole! First-rate kidnapper!"

From a far echoed the sirens of an approaching ambulance. Ace clenched his teeth and yanked harder. He didn't want to return to the hospital. Back to Grandpa and his supervisors. Back to that Surgeon Law and his army of Doctors.

"What kidnapper!? If it hadn't been for your— _damn_!"

" _My damn—_ what!?" Ace yelled back, wrenching his arm away from Algae's grip with such force his shoulder snapped with an offended cry. But Ace only gnashed his teeth. Didn't voice an ounce of pain as he screamed with too much anger and frustration at the other. Hurled insults and swears at that Algae-haired asshole, who was just like the rest. Just like Grandpa. Like his stupid supervisors. Just like stupid Marco. Like the stupid baboons Ace beat up earlier. He was just like—

"I swear, if I knew I was going to be handling a crazy pre-schooler, I would have never agreed to this," the other mumbled, rolling his eyes at him and scratched his head with eyes so bored, so annoyed that it almost unfurled another fit from Ace. "Listen, I'm only doing this because—"

"Shut up!"

The fury bolted from him as though a hatch was unlocked. A hatch that kept in the sizzling anger and hair-pulling frustration that Ace pent up all this time. "You bloody Algae! What makes you think I care!? You're just like the rest! Stupid and mindless! Just like a stupid Algae! Calling me a bloody pre-schooler without even knowing anything! Acting like I'm crazy when I know I'm _not_! My head isn't _bad_! It's not _broken_! _It's not bad!"_

A vein throbbed on the tanned man's forehead as he roared back just as loud, if not louder. "WHO ARE YOU CALLING AN ALGAE!"

"YOU!" Ace screeched right back, not caring about the attention the they are drawing to themselves, shouting to each other's faces like that middle in the road. "YOU— _YOU_ _STUPID ALGAE!_ YOU DAMNED _—umhpf!"_

The man clasped a hand over his mouth and physically dragged him back to his car. Ace shouted - _thrashed_ \- kicked and bit every space he could reach. Fed up, the elder threw him inside the car.

But Ace fought even then.

"Would you knock it off!?"

" _Screw you!"_

The sirens blasted into his ears and Ace halted his swears, peeking out of the window just as the door clicked shut. By the time Ace glanced back at the door, the tanned Algae was already on the steering wheel, hitting the gas, speeding down the highway, overtaking as many cars as possible to distanced far away from the paramedics, who were climbing out of their vehicles, looking bewildered across the scene for the injured that had somehow disappeared.

* * *

They drove in silence. Ace wasn't exactly sure when they slowed down to a more casual space, when the urban landscape disappeared and the greenery from the wilderness occupied every inch of his field of vision. He glanced out of the window, watching with shallow eyes the scenery whizzing past, miles of greenery stretched into the roads before him. Ace closed his eyes and leaned his cheek on the window pane as he wished the city life goodbye and welcomed the rural life of the country side.

* * *

When Ace woke up, he stared at a wooden ceiling.

A ceiling he had never seen before.

He sat up and pushed the bed cover away, taking in the strange room that was brim-full of complete messes. Ace sidestepped the clothes strewn across the floor and the half-emptied pack of potato crisp.

 _Is this Algae's room?_

He glanced around, noticed a bunk bed shoved at the corner of the room, pots of plants were aligned on the window sill along with other odds and ends he didn't recognised with the trash laying on the floor. But he found the door at last, hidden behind coats hung over the door that smelled of strong cologne.

Ace wrinkled his nose and pushed it open, heard faint echoes of laughter and annoyed mumbles as he padded down the hall. It led him to the kitchen and its open window. Ace grabbed onto the window sill. To his surprise his palms were covered in bandages, although poorly.

With raised eyebrows Ace pushed himself up, looked down the pane only to find Algae leaning against a fence as two other men hampered with the car. His eyebrows twitched, barely able to conceal his confusion and amounting surprise.

 _Are they changing the plate number?_

As though feeling his stare, Algae canted his back, stared right at Ace's eyes before he beckoned him with the flick of his hand. Ace snorted but nonetheless moved to head down with a scowl.

"What?" he gritted out almost immediately. The chatter halted, and the eyes turned to him until one of them whistled under his breath.

"So, you're Fire-Fist, huh? Glad to meet you after hearing so many rumours. I'm Johnny, by the way."

"You got the wrong person. I'm Portgas D. Ace." Ace crossed his arms, glaring at the black haired. Glared at the tattoo engraved on his cheek. Glared at the scowl he was giving Ace. Why was everybody trying to annoy him?

Johnny eyebrows twitched, and his mouth opened again. But Algae only raised his hand to halt him. "See? I've told you before. It's not the same person."

The other snorted. Ace glanced at him briefly. It was the blond haired, who had studied him silently since he first entered. He hid a smirk, looking so smug Ace wanted to punch him. "You can't fool us. We know how Fire-Fist looks like. He might have been able escape the public but not us—not our sharp eyes and instincts."

"Like I said," Algae started, shutting them up with a glare. Particularly the blond. "Ace is not the one you have in mind.

"But Aniki, don't you think they look alike—?"

"When is the car ready?" Algae sharply intercepted. "We've got reach East Blue City before _somebody_ decides to start tracing us."

"Stop dodging our questions." Johnny muttered, pulling his dirtied gloves off. "We don't mind helping you out in pinch, Aniki. But we do appreciate honesty in return."

"Like I said. . ."

"Where the hell are we, anyway?" Ace asked, pulling himself up to sit on the fence. It looked like they were at a cottage in the middle of no-where. But Ace was sure that the planted flowers on the front porch were well looked after, not to mention that the kitchen was surprisingly clean too—even the messy room he slept in spoke of ongoing life that Ace couldn't find by looking alone. Though, he was sure the house was occupied and until recently, inhabited.

"We're at one of the Straw Hats' secret hideouts." It was Yosaku that answered him, wiping his hands on a cloth as he regarded Ace with mild interest as well as a hint of scepticism. "I've heard you are acquainted with one of its members?"

"Are you stupid? How can I be acquainted with someone I don't even know," Ace mumbled, distracted by the red swellings that caught his eyes.

 _Did I hurt my arm when I jumped out of the car?_

Ace trailed it with his fingers, softly rubbing against his skin as he wondered where they come from, since he was pretty sure to have had his recent injuries patched up by them.

 _Maybe they're road rashes?_

"I see," Yosaku replied a little reluctant, glancing at Algae. The green-haired was busy talking to Johnny about how long the freshly applied black paint would need to dry. "So you're saying, you know nothing about the group's leader? Nothing about Straw Hat Lu— _oww!"_

Ace could only blink when out of nowhere a wrench hurled straight at the blond's head. In the distance Algae only grunted and sent him a warning look that had Ace brows sunk low, so low he was scowling. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." Came the reply with a simple shrug.

"Don't lie." Ace's voice was as hard as concrete and as brittle as ice and he glared at Algae. "I want to know what you're hiding from me."

"There's nothing we're hiding." Algae cut off and reprimanded him with a look. "So shut up and sit quietly."

"No, I won't!" Ace gritted through his teeth, jumped down the fence to stand on his feet. Seriously, why was everybody like this!?"Since I woke up months ago nobody has told me _anything._ And the moment I decide to step out of the hospital I get picked by a bunch of _noobs_. Abducted by a walking _Algae_. Surrounded by a bunch of strange dudes in a forest. And you all expect me to accept this quietly?"

"Hey, hey. . ." Johnny started, raised his hands as though to placate a wild animal.

But Ace's eyes flashed dangerously. "Is this about the bombing case? Am I some criminal you're looking for? Or is this some kidnapping? Are you trying to extract ransom from Grandpa? Because if it's that then you're failing miserably."

"Well, I'm not sure. . ." Yosaku replied gazing at Algae with confused eyes. "Aniki? Is this even the same Fire-Fist from the poster?"

"What poster?" Ace immediately latched on, not caring that a vein was throbbing on Algae's face. "What Fire-Fist?"

"This one—here look," Johnny answered, digging into his pockets to get several wrinkled pamphlets out, but they were immediately snatched by Algae's fast hands.

"I've told you it's the wrong person! That Fire-Fist they're talking about isn't _you_. You're Portgas D. Ace. _"_

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Ace scowled back at Algae. Even with his broken head he knew there were only a modicum of people named with a D. Not to mention having the same given name as Ace. This wasn't some random attribution. It wasn't!

Ace stretched his hand out. "Show me that paper. It's bound to have my face on it."

"Not in this case." Algae turned away, rolling the papers up into a scroll. "Just listen to me and leave this matter be."

"Just show it to me!"

"No."

"Lemme look at it! _"_

" _No."_

"Just give it to me!"

"I said, no!" Algae's eyes flashed dangerously but Ace didn't give up. He had answers so closed to him, so in reach. He'd be damned not to get it. He stooped on his tiptoes and stretched out his bandages fingers to grab at least even the edge of the paper, Algae held up away from him.

" _Goodness_ , I said no! You won't get it! I'd be damned to let you!"

"By whom!?" Ace shouted, wondering why exactly Algae bothered to stand in his way.

"By your brother!"

"I don't have a brother!" Ace shouted back, jumping once more only to lose his footing but Algae rushed to grab his arm—his hurt road rashed arm—and this point Ace could _really_ care less about the hurt searing up his arm. Ace took his chance to snatch the pamphlets out of his hands, throwing them away before Algae could stash it away.

The papers scattered in the air and Ace's eyes roamed quickly to scan each paper flying about. But Ace didn't have to search far. Didn't have to lift up every paper.

Because it was right in front of him.

 _Wanted_

 _Dead or alive_

 _Fire-Fist_

 _550.000.000 Berries_

 _Signed by—State Agency: The World Government._

"What?" Ace breathed out. His gaze was fixed at the ragged edges of a brazen smile—of wild kept hair flitting out from an orange hat, sitting crookedly on top of his head, slightly covering his twinkling eyes, bright with excitement. Ace traced a bandaged finger on the blue smileys perched on the hat, so similar to the engraved faces on the back of his hand.

This wasn't a coincidence. That face was doubtlessly his own. Except that it wasn't. Ace couldn't recognise it. The man on the picture looked like a man. _A real man._ Completely sane. Confident. Wild. Sociable. And not to mention well-toned, almost _brawny_.

Compared to the twenty-year-old, Ace was nothing but a toothpick. Nothing but bones and thin flesh. But not like _Luffy_.

Luffy was skin over bones which was surprising, really, considering what a ceaseless hole Luffy had as a stomach but—

Ace halted his line of though, lowered the poster and he thought again. _Luffy._

He sank to the ground, picked up and flipped over the pamphlets, throwing them over his head or every time some random visage popped up that wasn't Luffy's _._ Because his was supposed to be there too. Luffy was by far wilder and crazier than Ace. If Ace had one, Luffy should have one too.

He grew increasingly frustrated when Luffy's smiling face wouldn't pop up under the heap of sheets. Could it be his wasn't there?

 _(Why should his even be there?_

 _Luffy is nothing but your imagination.)_

"Shut up." Ace snarled, shifting elsewhere to dive and flick over more pamphlets. "It must be here somewhere."

He wasn't wrong. There was Luffy's. But it wasn't _Luffy_. Just like there _wasn't_ his face on his own poster.

Ace's hands trembled when he gazed at that familiar happy grin and cheerfully, bright eyes. The straw hat wasn't flailing over his eyes anymore. He wasn't small anymore. That barely-there-baby-fat that used to hug his skin evened out until Luffy was _really_ just skin on bones. But still so _happy,_ still smiling with that carefree nature that Ace could never adopt. But—

It wasn't Luffy. _Wasn't_ the Luffy he knew. _Wasn't_ twelve-year-old Luffy that used to visit him. Came to visit that night. Came to visit all those nights ago. But a stranger that looked like him. A stranger that Ace didn't know. A stranger—no,a _man_ that Ace didn't know.

That person just looked like Luffy. Seemed like Luffy. Was like Luffy, except that he was actually _not_.

"What is this?" Ace asked with a voice so rasped he couldn't recognise it as his own—

Ace stilled. Halted that thought. Tried to breathe slowly through his mouth. Tried to get control over his rampaging emotions. Tried his best to focused on what he could—on what wouldn't drive him over the edge he was so close to falling into, because what was _his_ anyway?

With blazing eyes, Ace steeled his nerves, glanced at the posters once more through hollow eyes, knowing by now wholeheartedly that he _wasn't_ that person. _Wasn't_ the one on the poster. _Wasn't_ the one everybody knew. _Wasn't_ the one Marco called out at the hospital roof. _Wasn't_ the one everyone was calling out to. . .

He wasn't the one.

Wasn't that _Ace_.

 _(That's right. You're not._

 _You're just an empty shell._

 _A shell that nobody wants._

 _Never needed._

 _Why are you even here?)_

Ace clutched his head tightly, the posters in his hands wrinkled against his hair. Ace gritted his teeth, tried to drone out the overlapping voice that screeched in his head.

" _ **It's his fault anyway! That monster!"**_

" _ **The devil's blood runs in him!"**_

" _ **Save us from him!"**_

Hands clasped over his shoulder, lightly shaking him and worried eyes fell on him. Somewhere in the distant Yosaku's voice buzzed, like the dull murmur it rose and fell, quivering against the noises from the shallow grunts and vocalised spluttered from furthering distance that Ace couldn't exactly pinpoint.

He only knew his ears were ringing. His head was throbbing. His heart was hardening. Hardening like a stone. And like a stone it fell.

Hit somewhere on the ground and disappeared.

 _(You're just an Ace nobody wants._

 _Why are you here?_

 _Why are you alive?)_

His eyes widened, and grey orbs stopped shaking.

His eyes fixed at a spot on the ground.

And just like that, it stopped.

His fingers untangled from the crumbled posters.

They glided through the wind, descended to the ground and landed with a dull thud just like the thump in his heart.

 _That's right._

Ace's his lips twitched into a careless smile.

It wasn't like he had to live.

Wasn't like he had to be here.

It's just that he was.

 _(You're nothing.)_

He was nothing.

* * *

A familiar ceiling. White and tainted. Cracked and smeared with ageing yellow.

Ace sat up, pushed the covers away from him, noticed its blue colours, the jaded stars and a crooked crescent moon sewed into the faded fabric that lay on top of that unfamiliar bed.

Ace crawled out, shivered as he touched the wooded floor, tiptoed across the floor, drew the curtains away that covered the window, its casing stained with fungus and the pane heavily fogged. Ace clasped the catch, wiggled it and pushed harder when it didn't give in until it broke open.

Gust of wind crawled up his arms, Ace peered over the bottom rail, endless empty streets stretched out below him, small and ragged semi-detached houses barley held out under the fissures carved into their plasters. With soulless eyes, Ace watched the rats scurry across the sullied sidewalk, sniffing at overfilled trash cans, bathing in its grease and rotten grime that reeked of excess death and decay.

Ace wrinkled his nose, leaned away from the window and gazed about the room before he marched over to the drawer, squished next to bed and the wall and he crammed through each section of the wood. Inside he found pens, notebooks, medical documents; written scripts about the human anatomy, neuroscience and the physiological well-being. Ace kicked it shut and moved towards the cupboard finding no more than a short lab coat. A first-aid box. A neatly hung stethoscope. Box of syringes, scalpels and other materials used for slicing up.

 _What the hell. . .?_

Frowning, Ace walked up to the other side of the room, climbed over the neatly folded bed, flung the drawers open with impatient fingers and cursed when the cooking books as well as magazines packed with indecent pictures of women sprang at him. Blood rushed to his face and Ace pushed it underneath the heavy printed books of recipes and instructions. He puffed his cheeks hollow, receded the offending red away from his cheeks as he glanced around.

There wasn't a door but a moth-eaten curtain hanging from the wall. He pushed it away and gazed at the narrowed hallway. There were four other rooms, one of which he guessed was a bathroom. Under the excessive creaks of floorboards, Ace padded towards the room next to him.

It was another bedroom.

Even before he cracked the make-shift door open, he could smell its pungent smell of cologne that tickled his nose. Ace sneezed at the swirling stench that lay hidden under the sprayed perfume and pinched his nose. It was as though someone had an intensive farting session inside this room and covered it up with freshly scented odours.

Ace pushed the door shut, but not before he took glimpses of a neat stack of musical sheets and various musical instruments lining up the wall. Ace could recognise the piano, the violin, the guitar, the harp and. . . .was that a workshop?

Ace rose his brows, trailed his eyes at the other side of the room, marvelled at the mechanical equipment, machinery and a hoister pushed against the wall and the spanners discarded on the floor until the stench burned the inside of his nose and he slammed the door shut.

Enough was enough.

Ace turned on his heels, headed down the stairs until curiosity perked up, he pushed it back and moved his feet down from one step to the other until it transformed to enormous interest that he couldn't suppress anymore. Ace sighed and jumped the stairs back up. A thin lump of wood closed the entrance inside the next bedroom. With careful fingers he pushed it open, wondering who the owners might be this time. He could already guess that the first bedroom belonged to a small doctor and a perverted cook. The second was owned by two old damned farts and the third one. . .?

A crack opened, wide enough to slip in and Ace marched inside, racked his eyes over the enclosed walls. Based on the bedroom design, it was made for two women. Ace moved around, gazed at the mounted books on the giant shelves, read over the title of one and then another before he took a step back and swiped his eyes over all the titles.

One was obviously obsessively taken by ancient history and monumental artefacts hundreds and hundreds of years old. The other seemingly, insanely occupied with the study of geographical maps and cartography. Ace closed the door behind him.

 _What kind of freaks were living here?_

Ace twisted the doorknob. It was the last room and locked. He gave it a sceptical glare, instead of backing off as he should have done, he hurried back into the previous bedroom, roamed through the drawers and cupboards until he found an opened box of hairpins. Ace took one out and bent it as he marched back, pushed it inside the keyhole and wiggled the pin in its place. His hand moved almost automatically and before he knew it, it cracked open. It was only then Ace realised it was the only room with a proper door. The only room locked of them all. Ace glanced back, furrowed his brows at the cloth and the slabs of wood before his eyes lingered at the door.

 _Is something inside that shouldn't be seen?_

Carefully, Ace pushed it open and stepped inside. Like the other bedrooms, this room was split in a half—at one side stood a bed with a ridiculous amount of weight-lifts and dumbbells scattered on the ground rather than stocked inside that empty rack standing next to the wall.

Ace swiped his eyes over the other side, ignored the hammock and laid his eyes on the strange, wild plants that he couldn't even begin to name that lay listlessly on the marble floor. They outgrew the massive amounts of pots and their long leaves almost touched the bunk bed skewed far inside the room, but that wasn't what caught his eyes.

Under the bunk bed was box that jutted out, something that looked suspiciously like a treasure chest. Ace neared it and pulled it out completely. The wood was ragged and discoloured. He lay a hand over the marred wood, felt it prickle under his skin as he pushed it open. Old and broken toys were huddled inside it, not for play but keepsake. Ace grabbed a torn monkey and flicked a finger against its plastic drums, wondered how attached someone must have been to tug along an entire childhood with him.

Ace roamed his eyes over the toys until he spotted a particular knight that sparked an interest in him. He trailed his hand over the dull metal. As far as Ace could remember, he had only played with a knight once in his life, or rather _forced_ himself to play with one as form of thanks.

No matter how much he detested toys, the length that Dogra and Magra went through just to steal a couple of toys for his birthday was ridiculous but the earnest someone ever went for him. Broken armed or legged, he wasn't sure, but he remembered that Dogra and Magra were bedridden for immobility and still ridiculously happy to see him holding that half-chewed knight. Happy at the revelation that Ace wasn't just a snot-nosed brat, but a brat that enjoyed playing just as much as swearing and scowling.

Ace raised the knight at eye level as his lips twitched into a wry smile.

 _What fools._

If only they knew that Ace was never a kid.

Just an anti-social brat.

He pushed the knight back into the box, brushed his hand against the lid, ready to close it when his eyes fell on a thin book. Ace drove his fingers over its black cover, the texture felt strangely familiar under his fingers tips. He turned it over. It wasn't a picture book. With furrowed brows, Ace gazed at its spine. There wasn't a title. It wasn't even a proper book. He flipped through it, noticed the missing papers and frowned when his eyes landed on another blank page.

 _Was it used for crayon?_

Ace glanced around. There weren't any doodled pictures hanging on the walls for keepsake. Ace shut it close and rose to his feet when he noticed a scrap of paper slip out of the thin book and fell in front of him. The edges were scrapped, torn at the corners and dried with huge blobs of tears. Ace picked up and smoothed it out, read through it.

 _I had fun hanging out with you, Luffy._

 _Caring for a little hyperactive brother like you has always taken a toll on me, aged my hair and gave me heart attacks every now and then. But I have never hated it. Even when your attention deficit drove me up a wall and made me pull my hair out, I could never hate a single moment of it. Because growing up with you was fun. And I think, I was also a little happy calling you my little brother. It has always made me a little less lonely. Even now, when I decided to path myself out of this world._

 _But I still decided not to be stopped this time. Not by Marco. Nor by Sabo. Or anybody else, for that matter. I'm going to shake this world. Break us out. Free us from this cage._

 _You should know by now that I'm not some martyr desperate for heroic actions. That I'm not planning to make a great tribute for my late mother. Neither to present a sacrifice for those demented Celestial Dragons._

 _Even though my promises are nothing but mere words—hollow, weightless, fickle words—I still want you to trust me, Luffy._

 _Just this one last time._

— _Ace._

"What?" Ace blinked and read it again. And then again. And then _again_. But there was no way. These scribbles looked like his own handwriting. But Ace was sure he would never ( _never never never)_ write something as corny as, _trust me,_ even if his name was signed on it. It could absolutely not be true. Ace was known for his outspoken manner. He voiced his complaints with scathing accuracy and directness than cowardly _scribble_ them on paper like some chicken. Besides—

 _Who's Sabo anyway?_

Ace furrowed his brows and slammed the box shut as he clambered to his feet, stuffed the paper into his pocket as he thundered down the creaking steps and walked straight into the living room. There was only a single couch. A radio perched on the coffee table. Buckets of empty paints and dripping brushes strewn on rampant newspapers. Orange painted walls, yellow waves and specks of uncoloured white.

 _Like the sun._

Ace marvelled at the walls, swiped his eyes of the bright colours until his eyes caught pieces of papers glued on the walls into a crooked line. Ace neared it and his eyes widened when he recognised a face on the wanted posters. Algae looked as annoyed as ever, glaring at who knows who, with his black bandanna over his head despite the chaos burning behind his back. Ace snickered and read over the caption written underneath the picture.

 _Roronoa Zoro._

Ace hummed and looked over the others. It was as bizarre as it could get. A cotton-candy loving reindeer, a cyborg and a funky skeleton. Two pretty woman posing like models. A man who seemed to be dying. And another who looked as perverted as it could get. Ace bit back laugh and his lips twitched into a smile.

 _What a weird bunch. . ._

He glanced to the last picture and his heart froze in his chest.

There was that face again. That _Luffy_ that couldn't be Luffy. Ace drove a finger over the poster as though the colours would recede and fade away under his touch. But they didn't. Ace lips drew into a taunt line. His eyes fell on the small printed caption. It was dated. Months old by now. But the words remained the same. Wanted. Dead or alive. Straw Hat: Monkey D. Luffy. 300, 000, 000 Berries.

Ace rubbed a finger over the printed numbers. At least _a_ Luffy was alive.

With a sigh, Ace continued his inspection. Like he guessed the house was empty. Deserted. Except for the rack standing next to the front door. It was packed of shoes—pumps, boots and canvas most of which belonged to women but still, the house was crammed with so much furniture it was bound to be lived in. It _must_ be lived in, so why was the fridge so empty?

Ace furrowed his brows, inside there was only a couple of flask of sake, the dusty cupboards full of spider webs. He groaned and flopped down on the couch, lay hand on his growling stomach. It hurt. He moaned and wondered when his last meal had been, pretty sure to have been more than three days ago. Ace sighed and rummaged through his pockets. They were empty, and there were no shops in sight he could steal from. Ace grumbled and laid back down, used his arm as makeshift pillow as he shifted on the hard couch.

 _Seems like I just have to sleep the hunger away._

He slid his eyes shut, his silent breathing lulling him away into fistful grasp of deep sleep, when the door knob rattled and broke open, Ace's eyes snapped wide open and he sat up, stared at orange tinted walls and slowly blinked. He roamed his eyes around the empty room, looked around for a clock that wasn't there. He laid back down, stared holes at the soiled, cracked ceiling until he came to stare at a fury head with a blue nose.

He suppressed the surprise and bit back a yelp when he chuted to sit up, realising to have seen this particular strange face before as his eyes slid back to the wall and there it was, _Chopper._ The cotton-candy loving reindeer.

Ace watched the walking animal sit down next to him, a first-aid box perched on his lap as he grabbed Ace's arms carefully, before his brows twitched and he tore away the bandages, fervently muttering complaints about the incompetency of his own friends before he took the forceps between his hooves, drenched the gauze in ointment and dabbed it on his arms and hands. Ace kept an eye on Chopper and his concentrated eyes as he wrapped the bandage so carefully over his arm it was almost ridiculous.

Ace sighed, moved his arm to take it away him and ignored Chopper's startled cries as he folded it over his arm in a rush. "You shouldn't be wasting too much time about these things."

"What are you doing? It needs to be done correctly!" Chopper wailed as he clambered to his feet with a determined grasp of Ace's arm, he smoothed down the misplaced straps and reapplied it, glaring at Ace all the while. "You can't just mess this up. If you're arms get any worse then— _what's this_?" Chopper was looking down, his shoulders tense as his eyes were firmly planted on the length of his arm.

"What is what?" Ace asked with questioning tilt in his voice that came as easy breathing. He knew exactly what Chopper meant. Even if those angry and smiley faces were hardly recognisable under the healing scabs, those long, deep lines on his arms were not, their implications shone as bright as the morning light.

"Why are you doing this?" the stiffness in Chopper's voice was unmistakeable. It was bristling with barely held back anger and Ace could already feel a smile sneaking up on his face, but he held it back, stared at Chopper's hard face instead as he rose an eyebrow.

"You mean this?" Ace rose his arms, held it directly in front of him and under Chopper's line of sight. "It's a strange story actually. I had this struggle with this Surgeon. He's a real sadist—has always liked to give injections with those 20-gauge needles and draws as much as blood as he sees fit." Ace muttered as he wrapped up the last pieces of the bandages around his arm and lowered it when he was done. "And let's just say I wasn't too willing to give any at that time."

Chopper was bristling with anger, his hands shook, and his eyes flashed with violent loath for this Surgeon. Ace shrugged. Chopper was free to believe whatever he wanted to. Just because Ace conjured strings of words and uttered them didn't mean it was necessarily true.

"What a freaking Surgeon!"

Ace jumped when a voice spoke from behind his head. He whirled his face around and the first thing he saw was a long nose.

 _. . . .Kaku?_

Ace blinked, stared at a white hat and googles before he lowered his eyes enough to see a grin and pair of friendly eyes. He was resting his arms against the back of the couch before pushed off and moved away. Ace watched him picked up a large bucket of paint and set it on the crumbled newspaper.

"I'm Usopp, by the way. Sorry to have left you by yourself for so long. But you see," he spoke as lifted the lid and nodded in approval at the red paint. "I ran out of paint and this baby doesn't finish by itself if the great Usopp isn't wielding the brush."

"You could have stayed away for days and it wouldn't have mattered." Ace mumbled to himself as he rose himself from the seat, ignoring Chopper huffing behind him as he crouched down next to Usopp. "What is this going to be?"

Usopp glanced up at him, rested his twinkling eyes on Ace as he boasted, "Nothing but blasting fire. The wildest you will ever see. You know, I have got this talent where I can bring colours to life."

Ace droned out his boasting and focused instead on the yellow waves on orange walls, wondering how it would look like to have bleeding red stain the morning sun before he shook his head and discarded that thought far away from his mind. Sunlight and bloodstains wouldn't fit together, leaving it like it was better, _cleaner_.

Ace took a look at Usopp's excited face before he gazed at Chopper, who rushed to help colour the walls, buzzing with giddiness and something underneath that Ace couldn't put a finger on.

"Why?" the word left his mouth almost from its own as the confusion continued to prod inside his mind, even as Usopp and Chopper lowered their brushes and turned to stare at him, their eyes urging him on, encouraging him, and yet again the words left his lips unauthorised. "Why colour these walls like bloodied fire?"

Usopp and Chopper shared a look and Ace recognised a tightness seeping into them, contracting their muscles and tightening their faces into harsh grimaces. Ace didn't comment on it, waited instead with a blank face.

"Because. . .someone asked us to?"

Ace waited for more but Usopp determinedly looked away, so he turned to Chopper instead, but the young Doctor only bit his bottom lip, an unsure expression on his face as peeked at Usopp, who strictly shook his head and so Chopper looked down, fully avoiding Ace's judging eyes.

"To be honest, I haven't expected anything else. I have met a fair share of people like you. People, who tend to keep their mouth shut for nothing but orders—nothing but idiotic thinking." Ace paid no heed to the responses he was stirring, even as Usopp's eyes flashed and Chopper clenched his jaw tight. Ace rose to his feet, stuff his hands into his pockets. It was their fault in the first place. They should have just answered.

"But what else is there to expect?" Ace continued as flippant as before despite the freezing ice that settled over each note of his tone. "These days people cannot speak for themselves. Even though they poke their noses into other people's businesses. I wonder why that is?"

The brush clattered against the newspaper, frivolous droplets of red paint splattered on Ace feet as Usopp pulled him by the collar, glaring with an intense mixture of frustrated anger and barely concealed fury.

"What? You can't take it, or can't you retort too?" Ace challenged, tilted his head back enough to glare back at Usopp. The other wasn't even looking at him but glaring heatedly at the wall as he unclenched Ace's shirt from his grip. Ace felt the anger boil inside him at Usopp's lack of response and was about to spew colourful curses at him when Long Nose tightened the grip on his shirt and lifted him up enough for Ace to stand on his toes as he banged their foreheads together.

"You're right! I can't stand it!" Usopp gritted out as his hand tightened enough to gloss over a pale pallor over his knuckles."Which part of this sheer, calculated plan is exactly idiotic thinking? I would have smashed that goo inside your head to pieces for that comment alone—but I cannot do that _without_ going back on my word! And that's only because I promised!"

Ace could hear the anger vibrating from each rise and fall of Usopp's breath as the frustration thickened his word, even as Usopp loosened his grip on him and flexed his hands into firmly balled fists at his side, glaring with the same intensity as he shouted, "So what if I am shutting my mouth? If I poke _my_ nose in _your_ business? Kidnap you and feed you to the dogs? You're not realising your position here! I am not a coward enough to not speak for myself, so don't dare ridicule us by comparing us to lowlifes that can't even defend their own views!"

Ace ignored the throbbing pain at his neck and didn't even bother to rub it away as he took a step forward and scowled up, his eyes were flashing when he spat just as venomous, "I never asked you about any of that."

Ace watched the force behind Usopp's glare flaunt as confusion pooled up inside his black orbs. But Ace didn't care about that. He didn't care about any of that. "I only wanted to know why you bothered to paint a dying sun instead of fire but thanks for the information, you rotten bastard. I definitely won't forget it."

Usopp remained silent, arms crossed over his chest with his chin held high as he still glared at Ace as though he was the dirt stuck at the sole of his shoes and Ace was close to rewind his arm and force a punch on him when Chopper suddenly latched himself on his leg, and Ace considered the action to kick him off before he thought otherwise.

 _He treated my wounds._

 _But then again, I didn't ask him to._

Before Ace could contemplate this any further, Chopper sharp voice broke off his trail of thoughts.

"You got this wrong! Usopp would never go as far as throwing threats around! We just wanted— _umpf!"_

Usopp clasped a hand over Chopper's mouth, packing any escaping words back inside the prison of his mouth and into the threshold of his throat. "Chopper, have you forgotten the plan? Didn't we promise to make this work? I know it's hard. But sometimes a man has to throw away his morality to chase for greater good! Think of the outcome, Chopper. We got this, man! _"_ he blared with such poise and pressure, the colour of Chopper's face disappeared before it resurged with a fierce red that looked almost comical and he shook his face out of the grasp of Usopp's hand.

"Even if a real man has to abandon his morality, a Doctor has to always keep his! I have to think first and foremost about my patients!"

"Patients?" a stricken expression fell on Usopp's face as his eyes slid to Ace and the freckled boy knew exactly why. Right there in front of them wasn't the cotton-candy loving reindeer but Chopper, _the Doctor_. Ace took a couple of steps back. He didn't want to listen to this. He didn't want to be a part of this. Because Chopper couldn't have known about—

Ace halted in his steps, held his breath when Chopper's eyes fell on him and Ace could see the anger, the guilt and the sorrow reflected inside them. "I'm sorry, Ace. Even though I was aware of it, I didn't realise how much it has escalated. Even though I have been warned."

"What are you talking about?" Ace snapped, although his mind raced, trying to figure out how Chopper caught up to his problem. How he possibly could have figured it out when Ace could lie so brilliantly?

"Chopper, what's going on!?" Usopp's frantic eyes settled on his friend as his mind refused to decompose this situation into manageable heaps of knowledge he could easily pick up.

"Zoro told me all about it!" Chopper fixed his eyes on as he too looked stricken. "You were always so carefree Ace. I couldn't believe you would do something like that. I really wanted to believe your Surgeon story." Chopper's voice was so strangled as he reeled the snot inside his nose with each sniff. "Even thought it was a technically lie."

Ace had difficulty opening and closing his mouth as his throat felt nothing but raw sandpaper. It even hurt to swallow his own spit. His eyes were glued on Chopper and the wetness brimming in his eyes and Ace could practically feel the guilt seeping into the creases of Chopper's pained face but— _why?_

How could Chopper be so affected by this when it was Ace's pain to carry?

This was so ridiculous. Foolish. Unreasonable.

Ace took a step back, watched the confusion amounting on Usopp's face as he whirled his head back and forth between the two of them and Chopper's fat tears that ornamented his face. Ace swallowed despite his parched throat and kept his voice steady, _normal_ , because there was noway Chopper could know.

Ace steeled his voice and breathed out through his nose, before he forced out with all the anger he could fuel into his words as he crossed his arms over his chest. "What are you talking about? Whatever that _Zoro_ said is nothing but wild speculation. And anyway! How do you even know my name?"

"Who doesn't know Ace!?" Chopper retorted back, "Ace the lunatic! Ace who jumped from a window! Jumped off the roof! Jumped into the motorway!Ace _, who slit his wrist with a broken mirror!"_

"What!?"in a flash, Ace compressed Chopper's cheeks with his hand, felt grates of the Chopper's teeth as he glared into the Doctor's eye. "What kind of person are you imagining when you're talking to me? Do I look like I have these kinds of tendencies? That I would hurt myself and be done with it?"

Chopper glared back as he pushed Ace's hand away from his face as he shouted. "Are you saying you didn't then!? That you didn't do any of it!"

"So, I did jump from that window—I jumped off that roof, so what?" Ace forced the words out and yet pronounced them as clear as possible. " _That doesn't mean I want to die!"_

Chopper glared back and was about to retort when Ace's eyes flashed dangerously, and he cut the doctor off with his own answer. "No, it does not! And even if I had those tendencies—even if I wanted to die then that's _my_ problem and my alone! It has nothing to do with any of you!"

Chopper couldn't contain his frustration and doubling anger as he smacked Ace across the face with a resonating slap. "Can you even hear yourself talk, you bastard? Your death isn't your problem alone! _You can't just_ —" Chopper gnashed his teeth, kept his eyes on the floor as his fist shook on his side before he rose his head to glare at him. "You can't just determine whose problem it's going to be!"

Ace barked a laugh, a harsh embittered laugh as he squatted down, squeezed Chopper's cheeks apart with too much force for it to be a joke. "Do you actually know whose problem it's going to be?"

Chopper tried to evade his gaze. But Ace knew from the way his fist shook and his eyes burned with fierce anger that he knew too. Knew just _whose_ problem it would become. But Ace said it anyway. He already came to terms with the fact that everybody just wanted to profit from him in one way or another.

 _It doesn't matter if they want to lock me up, silence me or beat me. They all just want to hide their own dirty little secrets._

Ace glanced at the glaring Chopper and Usopp, who was only now beginning to piece the puzzle together from the blanch on his expression. Ace hardened his glare as he tugged Chopper's cheeks tighter, knowing wholeheartedly that those two were just part of the entire shebang that were out to get him.

Chopper dropped his gaze even as he trembled, snot dripping from his nose and blotch of tears staining his face as he had trouble accepting the undeniable truth that Ace dished out to him.

Because Ace was right.

It was the absolute truth.

Because nobody would care if a mass-murderer commits suicide.

To them—the police, the Whitebeards and the rest of society, Ace was nothing but scum.

A scum that roamed free and wasn't locked up in prison. An amnesic scum that was nothing but an annoyance. Nothing but a pest that needed to be purged.

To be destroyed.

* * *

Ace kept his head on his knees, back leaned against the wall, sleeping his hunger and fatigue away, as he wondered how many hours went by without eating. Cold gust of wind crawled up his spine, freezing his skin with its cold touches, and Ace pressed his legs closer against his chest, ignored the digs of the hard-wooden floorboards frosting his rear and blearily opened his eyes when a blanket was covered over his shoulder. He pushed it away, grunted and glared as best as he could with sleep blurring his vision.

But the other just sighed—was it Usopp? Ace blinked and tried to find a long-nose that he couldn't see over the darkness hovering over his vision. But it was definitely his voice as he picked up the blanket as he lowered himself in front of him. "At least come and sleep on a bed. We have several blankets prepared already. You'll catch your death if you stay here and longer."

Ace turned away from him, lowered his head on his knees again as he closed his eyes to nap away, droning Usopp's voice with fake snores that only irritated the other more until he was forcefully wrapping that blanket around him. Ace struggled and cursed but it wasn't enough to stop Usopp from knitting the ends together into a tight bow tie, effectively locking Ace in within a blanket. "You bastard!"

"I don't care!" he snapped back, tugging the ends even more, "It's less than five degrees Celsius and you have slept here for three hours already! You can just take a bed and—"

"I don't want to take anything from you," Ace gritted out, chuting backwards, far away from Usopp. "Even if it means freezing here and starving myself."

"You're being ridiculous!" there were glints of fury in Usopp's eyes as his glared darkened on Ace. It was understandable, really, but Ace just didn't care. After their little argument, Chopper tried his best to remedy the tension, tried to ask about his medical history, about the sedatives that has been used on him, the amount of times he had been overdosed, and the amount of times he slept through days, weeks, _months._

It was predictable, if not completely obvious, that Ace wouldn't answered. He gave nothing as a response, but a firm look at the opposite direction. And even if Chopper looked disheartened with that stupid and plain-to-see guilt plastered over his face that Ace still couldn't understand. But even if he wanted to answer, he couldn't. Ace wasn't—like many things—involved in the confirmation process. Law would always just poke a needle through his skin and that was it.

Not explanations. No reasoning.

Nothing but cold stares and apathetic faces.

Ace breathed sharply out of his nose and turned to face Usopp. He hadn't really spoken to him either. It wasn't as though he hadn't forgiven him. People were just like that in his world. They treated him as an outsider, even inside his own life. It was as paradoxical and ironic as it could get, and Ace simply didn't care at this point.

 _What's the use to get upset anyway?_

 _I'm just wasting my breath._

Ace stifled a sigh and turned away, kept his eyes pointedly away from Usopp as he waited for him to disappear back into the kitchen. But he didn't. Usopp kept staring at him. Ace canted his head back, looked at him suspiciously. What else could he possibly want?

But Usopp only threw his hands up, completely exasperated when he stressed, "If you're acting like this just to get an apology then here, _I'm so sorry_. Are you willing to sleep upstairs now and get away from here?"

"No." Ace narrowed his eyes at him as he pulled his legs even closer to him. "I never wanted an apology. I just wanted an answer to my question."

Usopp looked genuinely confused as he blinked like a stupefied goldfish, but Ace received no joy from it, even as he could practically hear the gears clanking in his brain and Usopp's eyes widened as he glanced back at the orange tinted walls and yellow waves. "The painting?"

Usopp's eyes fell on him, and Ace felt ridicules for even bothering to speak to him as he lowered his head on his knees again and sighed. "Forget it."

"You just honestly wanted to know about the fire I was painting?"

Ace didn't answer, didn't even grunt as he plainly ignored Usopp and his sudden shuffle across the room.

"I thought you were asking about our motif for painting it, rather than the painting itself."

Ace wasn't looking at him, even though he rose his head enough to peek at the floor. "I have said _what_ not _why_ first, haven't I?"

"Don't get saucy now. We started out on a good foot." Usopp muttered as flicked through a couple of boxes strew on an empty spot on the floor, before he pulled out a box and crammed through it, fishing something out that looked like a folder. Usopp switched the lights on and moved towards him, whilst Ace was still getting used to the sudden brightness.

"Here, this should answer your question." Usopp flicked through it and Ace realised it wasn't papers but doodled picture tucked inside the plastic wallets. "It's one of Luffy's treasures. He keeps his childhood close to his heart. Even the broken toys he used to play with, he keeps it all with him." Usopp flipped to a particular page. "He wanted me to draw this. He said it would be a memento for his brother."

Ace wiggled his arms out of the annoying cover and took the folder of him, his eyes till glued onto the strange fruit sprawled on the page. It's bright orange colours. The tinges of red and yellow sprouting from behind it, enveloping it into a bottomless gulf of wild-fire. Ace trailed a finger on it, lost in thought as his eyes wandered, gazing at the wanted lists lined up on the wall across from him.

"He said his brother liked fire."

Slowly, Ace trained his eyes on Usopp and the sorrow strangely reflected insides his black orbs, and he thought he understood. The pain in Chopper's eyes, the hurt echoing his words, and the sorrow in Usopp's face—it wasn't their pain, but the pain of that Luffy.

They were grieving for Luffy.

They were sharing his pain.

Ace breathed out from his nose and rested his head against the wall, stared at the ceiling as his head ran through their entire conversation and the entire thing clicked in his mind. He settled his eyes back on Usopp and rolled the question from his lips, even though he had an answer in his mind.

"What happened to his brother?"

Usopp stiffened and he gazed away. "Could we not talk about that?"

He sighed and here he thought too they have made an improvement. Ace looked up and gave him a tired stare. "You don't have be like this. I have my own ideas already. You just have to approve or refute them."

Ace shifted his position on the floor and stretched his legs out, folded one over the other even as the cold seeped through the blanket and onto his body, but Ace only gave a shrewd look at a gulping Usopp. "Because, reasonably speaking, there can only be one Ace and one Luffy. And even though I might not like it, it cannot be denied."

Usopp held his breath as Ace rolled his head to the side and directly stared at him. "I wasn't lying when I said I've met my share of tight-lipped people. Mindless people, who do nothing but follow stupid orders. So, it shouldn't surprise you that I haven't been told yet. That I don't know what has happened to me yet."

Usopp was already clamming a hand over his mouth, shaking his head vividly. "I won't tell you anything about that! You shouldn't know yet—you won't be able to handle it yet."

Ace shook his ramble off with the flick of his head as he leaned closer. "I told you, your job was just to approve or refute. You don't have to tell me anything."

"I can't— _I don't want to—_ it's practically the same thing and—"

"It doesn't matter. You just have to answer, yes or no." Ace frowned and crossed his arms over his chest as his mind wandered back to his hospital room, his Grandpa sleeping on the bed with a thick mass of stapled paper dangling on his hand. Ace knitted his brows as he rolled his head back, closed his eyes as he tried to summon the numbers scrawled on a particular page.

 _Casualty rate over 67%. Actual death rates remain unconfirmed. Estimated to be more than 10%._

"During that opening ceremony from Whitebeard Inc.," Ace opened his eyes, gazed at the other through narrowed eyes. "Am I the person responsible? Did I hurt all those people?"

Usopp stopped and stared, his hands fell from his mouth. "W-who told you that?"

"That doesn't matter. Just tell me, did I or did I not?" _am I a murderer or am I not?_

It was silent for the longest moment. The battle on Usopp's conflicted face was a plain as daylight, until he fixed his gaze on Ace, looking so confused and tired, Ace wondered how he could have kept it away for so long.

". . .I don't know." Usopp muttered at last and rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't have a clue and neither has anyone else. There are just speculation and a mob of angry people needing a scapegoat. The only thing I can do is believe that you're not and hope that I'm right."

Ace's mouth dropped opened. His eyes, completely wide. It finally clicked. Those stern gazes from supervisor, Kalifa. Those hesitated friendliness from long nose, Kaku. Those apathetic faces from Marco. Those expressionless features from Pigeon Boss. And that conflicted expression on his Grandpa—and that ridiculous amount of cash he was willing to pay that Smoker. . .

Ace bit the inside of his cheek and balled his hands into trembling fist, thought back to that Law and his knowing smirks that were completely hollow _—_ bore no value, nothing but a false echo of promise.

But more importantly—

Ace whipped his head back to stare at Usopp. He was busy gazing beyond the sprawled yellows and oranges at something too far away for Ace to discern, but one thing was clear.

They didn't know.

Those bastards didn't have a clue.

They only spend their time guessing at what happened, coaxing information from anywhere that showed what _could_ have happened. Unreasonable directing all the hatred at him without a handful of evidence. Blaming him and confiding for nothing but their own suspicion.

Nothing but unfounded speculations.

Nothing but miscalculated stupidity.

Ace gritted his teeth and punched the ground, his knuckles cracked, his flesh burned under his ripped skin. But he didn't care.

 _Because they didn't know._

Because they only _guessed_ the entire entity.

Because nobody fucking knew what happened and still treated him like some... _sociopath._

Ace winded his arm back and cracked his knuckles against the plaster. Usopp yelped and tried to tug him away but Ace was completely focused on the tiny spots of crimson seeping into the creaking edges of the marred wood. Definite thoughts pressed into the forefront of his mind as he flexed his hurting knuckles into a hard fist.

Ace gritted his teeth and swore colourful curses as he took a secret of oath to himself. A violent promise to make them all pay. For all they put him through. Locked him into that hospital. Stared at him with pitying eyes. Insisted that he was _mad_ when he was actually _alright._

 _Play obtuse octopus as much as you like, you bastards._

 _I'll let them experience a part of this hell._

* * *

The cupboard creaked and banged during the turbulent night, unleashing the madness bouncing inside Ace's head.

Ace glared and glared hard.

"Will you stop it already?" Usopp muttered, giving him a mean stare over his shoulder, seemingly freak out by Ace's persistent stare as he moved to fix a cup of hot chocolate for Ace, hoping to sedate his maddened stomach and its growling curses.

"I said, I want nothing from you." Ace placed a hand on his belly, rubbed the hunger away with his palm. He didn't need food. Not their food. Not _anything_ from them. "I'm fine the way I am."

"What's with you?" a glass clanked against the wooden table. Ace stared at it, furrowed his brows at the smell of fine chocolate. Usopp only pushed it further to him, sat on a stool opposite him as he propped a hand under his chin, watching a hesitant Ace sniffing the drink. "Just drink it up already. I can't give you anything else. I can't cook a decent meal to safe my life and Zoro is still getting Sanji. But they should here by morning. So, you don't have to worry about starving anymore."

Ace sipped from it before he swallowed it all, not realising to have been so thirsty. He wiped the foam away from his mouth, glanced at Usopp and his knowing smirk and Ace's eye brows twitched, his arms were crossed over his chest as he reconfirmed, "I wasn't thirsty."

"Sure," that annoying smirk was still on his lips and his eyes shone of slyness. "So, I'm guessing you don't want another?"

"Correct." Ace looked away, his hard eyes contrasted the softness in his voice. "I don't."

Usopp only hummed as he grabbed the glass and washed it at the sink. "So, I'm guessing you don't want to sleep either?"

"No."

"Even though you're tired?" Usopp asked, closing up the tap. He threw a sceptical glance at Ace. No matter how much, Ace forced himself not to rub a hand over his eyes, they were droopy, bright red and completely plain to see. "You should go to bed. It's almost four o'clock in the morning."

"I'm not tired." Ace huffed out, moved his hand to pinch the inside of his arm without the other's noticing. The pain alerted his sense, drove the sleepiness away from his eyes before it overlapped his entire being like a thick blanket, so _warm, warm, warm_ , it was suffocating.

Ace suddenly felt like a fish out of water and struggled up to his feet, a surge of dizziness hit him, and the freckled boy stumbled, leaned a hand on the table and tried to steady himself under the swarming dizziness.

He felt a pair of hands clutching his shoulder, caught blurs of a long nose and panicked eyes, heard screams of help and Chopper when the widened abyss of darkness zoomed in, flashing from behind his lids.

It was dragging him.

Pulling him.

And Ace let himself be pulled.

* * *

He heard whispers at his ear. Small fingers patting against his cheek. Slowly, Ace opened his eyes. He didn't recognise this ceiling. It didn't have holes. It wasn't cracked, wasn't sullied.

It was a pristine.

White.

Ace blinked and sat up, pushed the white covers away from him. The room was bare. Not a single window. No drawers. No cupboard. Completely empty.

He crawled off the bed, padded across the floor towards a door. It was brown. The only thing of colour. The knob was cold under his fingertips. With a surprised blink, Ace twisted it but found it locked.

He was locked inside this empty room.

 _How can this be possible?_

Ace jumped at the loud echo of his voice. It boomed against the empty walls and resounded into his ear like a hollow reverberation, vibrating even now thick and loud in his mouth. Ace turned around, inspected every corner of the room with narrowed eyes.

 _Where am I?_

He winced at the sound of his own voice but yelps at the deeper laughter bouncing from the walls. Ace swallowed and constraint the muscles of his limps, minimised the trembles shooting from his being with each sharp breath intake, each vibration numbed the feeling of his foot, sped up his heart rate.

 _This is too freaky._

Ace gritted his teeth, held his hand against his ears as he squatted down, a strange cold wrapped around him, curled around him and squeezed so tight, it cut of the air to his lung. He shot up from the floor, glanced around him only to see nothing. Nothing at all but empty white.

And a bed.

Ace stared at the duvet. It was blue with sewed in stars and a crooked crescent. He grabbed the fabric in his hand, pretty sure to have seen this before but not exactly where.

He glanced around, noticed papers laying across the other side of the floor. Papers he was sure weren't there before. The freckled boy climbed over the bed, brushed a hand against something oddly hard under the cover. He slipped a hand under fabric and pulled out a worn knight.

The knight.

Ace blinked as he twisted and turned it around his hand, glance back at the starry night imprinted on bed sheets. It was like the one from the Straw Hats. Ace traced his hand over the crescent moon, lingered his eyes on the starry night before his attention shifted on the strewn papers.

They were letters. Like diary entries. Except it was blurry. The words barely recognisable under that messy scrawl of a hand writing that was undoubtedly similar to his own.

 _Wait—_

It _was_ his own.

They were signed with his name.

Ace furrowed his brows and looked through them yet again, picked one up after the other.

But they were all the same. Nothing but illegible scribbles that his eyes couldn't discern. The letters were merged together, a huge mess and a total eyesore. Ace sighed and fell on his back, stared at the pristine ceiling before he glanced at the crunched paper, threatening close to his left eye.

Unlike the others, the words were readable. Spread out in clear writing. Ace grabbed the paper and rolled over, laid on his stomach as he read the first sentence. Horror and confusion gnawed at him. He couldn't comprehend it although he did understand. It was almost identical to the one he found inside that black journal.

Ace fished the paper out from his pocket—the one he picked up from the Straw Hats—and placed it next to the other, not exactly surprised that they were _identical_ but that it was here. The ebony-haired glanced back at the strewn papers, counted a total of six before he moved to bite his bottom lip, roaming through the same lines again. It was an apology and a plead—about broken trust and a promise not kept. The one he read before.

 _Even though my promises are nothing but mere word—hollow, weightless, fickle words—I still want you to trust me, Luffy. Just this one last time._

Stormy eyes and gritted anger popped ins Ace's head and an extremely loud voice shouted:

" _I cannot do that without going back on my word! And that's only because I promised!"_

Ace trembled under the colossal vitality oozing from Usopp's voice and the freckled boy tuned away, glanced at the floor and screamed. Because Usopp's face was staring right at him. Ace pushed away from Usopp's penetrating glare and scampered away, climbed on the bed and kept himself away from the other's face, completely out of breath. He tried to calm himself, took deep breath to tranquillise the frantic beats of his heart and the nausea clambering up his throat.

Ace glanced at Usopp's again. His face hadn't changed. His brows were still harshly knitted and his gaze still fiery. Just like Ace imagined him inside his head. Except it was a reflection. A face carved into the tiles.

A strange idea came into his head then. Ace looked around, gazed at spot and thought of Luffy. His stupid grin and warm eyes, and there it was— _Luffy._

His face was as a tall as the wall, eyes bright and his face split into a huge grin and Ace could already hear—

 _Shi Shi Shi Shi._

Ace threw his head back and laughed. Laughed loud, relieved and embittered because this was nothing but a dream. A fabrication of his own mind. His own imagination. His boisterous laughter quieted down into flimsy chuckles until it completely disappeared, and Ace was left staring at the wall, only one realisation occupied his mind now and it was splashed across the wall into a thick, messy scrawl.

 _I'm stuck inside my own mind._

It was exactly as that idiotic Luffy said. Ace's lips twitched at the irony before his eyebrows quaked into a bothered scowl as he looked around.

 _How do I get out?_

Ace got up and walked towards the door. The door knob was hot now, almost burning under his gripping fingers, but he imagined it opening and— _creek._ It did open.

Ace opened it wide and a glitter of silver shimmered near the corner of his eyes, huge numbers were engraved on the door and he stepped back, ran his eyes across the door.

His breath stuck in his throat.

His door was marked with a number.

 _2289._

Ace broke into a run. Towards room the only room that lay inside his mind.

 _3309._

His heart slammed against his ribcage, buzzing with excitement as he legs carried him forward. But he knew he would reach it. Would get there this time.

 _Come visit me tomorrow, okay?_

 _It's been lonely lately._

Ace clenched his teeth, sprinted past endless doors, his frantic eyes whizzing past the numbers, dashing farther inside the darkened hallway and its flickering lights, completely out of breath as he ran heedlessly around this endless maze in search for numbers his eyes couldn't spot; couldn't find.

 _Don't forget, Ace._

Ace bent forward, clasped his hands on his knees, caught his breath as he glanced at the widening corridor, its doors were stretching farther away, disappearing into the darkening distance, weltering deeper into this labyrinth; into this endless path.

 _You can't forget, Ace._

He shut his eyes and raced forward. His sight completely blackened by the lack of light but that didn't matter. Ace gritted his teeth and only ran forward, completely determined as he rushed through the darkened halls.

 _I'll find you, Luffy._

* * *

Ace shook out of his reverie like a fish, clad in cold water and shaking. Except he wasn't wet. _What the hell?_

He rubbed his arms, ridding the goose-bumps when he glanced around and noticed Chopper's face close to his own, almost automatically Ace drew back, kept his voice neutral even as he asked. "What did you do to me?"

"Nothing. I just checked up on you." Chopper muttered, lowering his arm. He clung onto a pen light, still dressed in his gown and pair of antlers poke out from his sleep cap. "You scared Usopp back there. But luckily, you experienced nothing but withdrawal symptoms of your medication."

Ace leaned back, clutched the sheet of his cover as he asked, quite curiously, "Withdrawal symptoms?"

The Doctor only leaned back onto the chair, looking exceedingly troubled. Ace gave a questioning look, sat up in his chair and pursed his lips together when Chopper only shook his head, rubbed the sleep away from his eyes. "Don't worry about it. I gave you a healthy dose of an antidepressant. It might take a while to adjust to it, but you honestly should be fine for now."

". . .antidepressant?" Ace rose a brow, smoothed out the wrinkles of his blanket before he glanced at Chopper and his grim expression.

"Tora-o didn't bother to tell you, did he?" he rubbed his wrinkling nose and ignored the way Ace's eyes were widening. "You have an abnormal case of dissociative amnesia with the occasional symptom of PTSD. I don't know what medications he usually used on you—and under this current uproar I can't just call him either, so let's hope the ones I gave you will suffice."

Ace nodded, clenched and unclenched the bed sheets as he levelled a stare at Chopper. "That Tora-o you mentioned couldn't be Surgeon Law, right?"

"Who knows? Doctors have their connections, if you didn't know. Somebody's patient is everybody's patient." Chopper yawned and stretched. "Really, you shouldn't mind these trivial things and go to sleep. It's six o'clock and Usopp told me you haven't slept a wink yet."

"I'm not tired." Ace grumbled but laid back down.

"I know. But you will be." Chopper muttered as he held onto the doorknob, flicked the light shut before sat back on the chair. "I'm your personal Doctor from now on. I won't let any harm befall on you—not even during your sleep, so rest assured and nod off."

Ace tired not to think about the weirdness of being stared during sleep as he turned around and closed his eyes, listened to his own breathing and then Chopper's. Ace rolled back, glanced at his sleeping face and the tiredness Ace could see on it- the bag under his eyes and the droopiness off his shoulder. Before he remembered that it was six o'clock now.

 _I was out cold for two hours. . ._

Ace glanced the desk and the tiny flask perched on top of it. He glanced at the label, its name too difficult for him to pronounce but that didn't matter. He was taking medication, suffered from withdrawal symptoms without even knowing. Ace drove a hand through his hair, trying to recall the questions Chopper had asked him yesterday—those he blatantly ignored about his medical history that Ace knew was endless.

He had been hospitalised since he could remember, continuous check-ups and enquires about his head to determine his well-being. Not to mention, the amount of surgeries he underwent because of his physical injuries (broken arms, legs, fingers, clavicle— _really_ , the list was endless). But he had never been giving anti-depressant. Never been given medical drugs. Except the occasional painkiller. And sedatives. Law liked giving those.

Ace scowled, wondered what exactly that surgeon intended to achieve by drugging him up.

 _Did he think I was his guinea pig?_

But Ace also knew he had lapses in his memory, knew he would at times go to sleep and wake up days or even weeks later. He flexed his arm, the one he broke during his fall out of the window, not remembering when exactly it healed nor when the cast was removed.

Ace sighed from his nose and sighed, folded his arms over his head as he resumed his game at staring at the ceiling. For all he knew, he had always been like this.

 _Grandpa always used to say I was insane._

And never until now had Ace realised how much.

* * *

The sun shone bright, flittered passed the open curtains directly on his face. Ace stirred, shifted but kept his eyes close, listened to the shallow murmurs resounding from afar, before a heavenly scent drifted into his nostrils and activated his brain cells and forced his eyes open.

Breakfast looked as delicious as it smelled. The dishes were of exotic variety—too strange and beautiful for Ace to exactly pinpoint its nature. The drip of sweet syrup on sun-baked pancakes was tantalising enough for Ace to swallow hard. But the churn of his stomach and the rising bile inside his throat let him imagine otherwise. His hand rose to cover his mouth and his eyes slid firmly shut as his face greened.

Ace glanced away from the small coffee table positioned in the living room and planted his eyes firmly on the floor and its cracks, knowing wholeheartedly that one tiny bite would turn the set table into a disastrous slime and backward eaten goo.

 _Food shouldn't be eaten if it's going to be wasted._

His brow knitted harshly as he remembered his Grandpa's stern voice and iron fists whenever Luffy stuffed his mouth too full and recounted stories with sound effects materialised through the flying crumbs and mashed gunk scattering across the table, if not exactly on their faces. Disgusting, but fine eating manners didn't exactly run through their family.

Ace sighed and readjusted his position on the couch, faced his back towards the heavenly scented breakfast laid on the table, but the mere sight coiled his stomach and wrenched his gut. He covered his mouth again, breathed in deeply the scent of new found freedom and wildlife sticking in his own palm and ignored whatever food was behind him. It was better this way, anyway.

They could have mixed the dough with untraceable poison or have vaporised handfuls of sleeping pills inside the broth, even if it was extremely unlikely.

Ace opened his eyes and glared at the dark coloured fabric of the couch, aware that they have had uncountable opportunities to render him hors de combat but had surprisingly used none of them. It was strange, if not completely weird.

 _I wonder what they want from me. . ._

Ace yawned and shrugged, tuned his thoughts off once the shallow barks of laughter and friendly chatter from the kitchen dimmed under his light breathing and the unfolding imagination vividly sparking under his lids welcomed him as he slept off his hunger once more.

* * *

" _I don't really care since I'm not worried or anything, but isn't it better to change our plan?"_

" _Shut up. I said we're doing it like this!"_

" _I kind of agree. It might be a little too early for him. Last time he passed out just from hearing Luffy's name. Think about what he'll do after seeing that. His mind will blow down like an overcooked fuse…"_

" _Shut it, love-cook. He'll learn it anyway. It doesn't matter how."_

" _Can you really not think something else, Nami? Chopper said we have to be careful about—"_

" _We don't have the time to be careful, Usopp. He needs to understand this now!"_

" _But—"_

Ace stirred from his sleep as the disconnected voices pulled him awake, and with the back of his hand he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, only to see an empty room. He still lay on the couch, sprawled out chaotically with a blanket tangled between his legs that he couldn't remember putting on himself. His eyes fell on the table. The heavily scented food was gone, replaced by a regular newspaper recently dated. Along with it lay an envelope addressed to Luffy.

Ace reached for it, lifted the envelope with tender fingers. He swallowed and tore it open. For no other reason than the desire to uncover the missing pieces of his life that no-one was willing to filling up. So far, his curiosity only led to increased headaches and doubled confusions, but what other choice did he have other than picking the small pieces his elder self-left?

Ace sighed and begun to read, but the cloud swarming inside his head only continued to fog his mind with each string of words scrawled messily into the piece of paper until the contend of it sunk into his heart and cleared his mind. Perhaps, it was due to the familiarity of the words that echoed parts of his childhood that consisted of nothing but unpleasant memories, but Ace found this part of his twenty-year-old self unnaturally closer to him than usual. It was as though Ace could finally find pieces of himself between the pages. But it wasn't long until his heart dipped and clenched painfully inside his chest.

 _So, it was me._

The smile grazed on his lips easily, crookedly yet belittling. The letter dropped into his lap, its light impact ignored by his ears. He could only perceive the deafening silence inside his mind and the steady beats of his heart. He stared ahead, and yet his sight was shrouded in darkness, covered like fallen snow the footwork of his future.

Ace drove a hand through his hair, wondered how he was going to face Usopp now. _Usopp_ —who readily gave him the benefit of the doubt. And Chopper, who treated him regardless of his mental disposition. Not to mentioned Marco, who voluntarily believed in his innocence and vouched for the twenty-year-old self _twice_ in front of Ace's eyes.

He glanced at the paper and hated how his stomach twisted.

 _What will Grandpa say to this?_

He bit his lip and fisted his hands into balls.

* * *

 _Since we were little, we have always been following our desires. Chasing after our dreams and ambitions. Ignoring the world and its stupid people. Keeping to ourselves and treating everyone as enemies. Because they couldn't stand us. Couldn't understand how we ticked._

 _But spending time with the Whitebeards made me forget that. Unlike what you thought, Whitebread Inc. isn't just a business, nor is it a refuge for misfits and hooligans, but the missing puzzle I never managed to find. So, I think it's alright, even if they're hating my guts right now. I've left them with nothing but sorrow and deep-rooted betrayal and I'm not exactly regretting it._

 _I should have never started to like them. So, it's fine even if they hate me. I'm going to finish what they have started._

 _I'll make those fireworks you always wanted to see, so at least make sure to watch them._

— _Ace_

* * *

Ace stared at the paper, knowing that it was over. His life was over. Or perhaps _should_ have been over at this point—for anyone with a college degree and a job on the line. But Ace didn't exactly have either of those. He never fitted these general standards of a functioning human being.

He touched the side of his head, felt it throbbing under his fingertips. The moment he laid his hands on the very paper, he should have expected this. From the moment he woke—he should have known—he was a villain.

A monster.

An _abnormality_.

 _(That's right. You're nothing.)_

This wasn't much different from the four whitewashed walls of a hospital room. Life only seemed to be a different kind of imprisonment with freedom acting as an illusion to shadow its own envisioned reality.

This was— _life_ was—nothing.

 _(Why are you here?_

 _Why are you even alive?)_

His grey eyes stared back at the letter. At a name that started all this mayhem, and before he knew it rolled from his lips, the origin of his trouble.

 _Whitebeard._

Ace clenched the paper into his fist and stormed out of the room.

* * *

"Where can I find Whitebeard?" Ace ignored the splash of tea sprouting out from Usopp's mouth when he slammed his hands on the kitchen table. Zoro lazily yawned, rousing from sleep, and Ace scowled and rounded on him, remembering the little details on the caption of his wanted poster. "You were a bounty hunter, so _you_ should know, right? Tell me where I can find that Whitebeard."

"And why should I?" his sharp gaze landed on him, but Ace could honestly careless when he crossed his arms and glared back, twice as sharp.

"And why should you not? It's the least you could do after kidnapping me!"

 _Algae_ opened his mouth to retort when another hand slammed on the table. An orange-haired woman pinned her gaze on him, her lips were curled into a smile, her fingers into an upturned okay sign.

"Any information from us costs at least a thousand berries."

Ace glanced at her for an amount of three seconds before his face contorted into a scowl. That amount was _impossible_. "On what kind of field do you think money grows from?"

The woman only clicked her tongue on him and shrugged her shoulders, poignantly reverting her gaze towards the open paged book, sprawled in front of her. "Then I have no information to give—"

"I wasn't asking you anyway, old hag— _hey!_ "

A kick flying at him, and Ace was lucky enough to have the reflexes to dodge. In a moment, without thinking, Ace whirled around, his fist raised to smack at whoever the hell it was—when another kick zoomed in his peripheral vision. Ace dodged and yelped when his foot slipped on the marble floor, the palms of his hands slapped against the hard tiles, but he ignored the stinging pain cruising through him as he glared at the blond, who towered over him, a cigarette clenched between his teeth as he pointed a ladle at him, the metal glistered under the afternoon sunlight that flittering through the windowpane.

"Nami-swan will be treated with respect at all times," after pinning glare, Sanji turned, tending towards the pots simmering on the stove as he stirred the broth. "Remember that, or you won't get dinner."

Ace frowned and climbed onto his feet, took in the room with sceptical eyes. Usopp was still sitting at the table, nervously drinking from his cup, the money-hungry orange-haired woman sat next to him, casually flipping through her book, and Algae was napping crossed legged on the floor, his back leaned against the wall. He counted four and knew one of them was missing.

"Where's the reindeer?" it was a simple and straightforward question, and yet the ensuing silence after his words knitted his brows into a harsh scowl _._

Usopp's mouth was opening and closing under the orange-haired threatening stare. Ace let out a sigh and stuffed his bandaged hands into his pockets and turned on his heels, absolutely done with them. He figured that Usopp was alright— _alright_ enough to confine in him now, but it seemed that he was wimpy enough to get squashed like a lemon under the thump of that orange-haired she-cow.

He sighed, figuring that he would have to find his little doctor himself.

One of Zoro's eyes opened, staring silently at Ace's retreating figure. "By reindeer…do you mean our little Chopper?"

Ace stopped and crooked his head, brows poignantly raised with wonder in his eyes. "Sure, unless you have a second cotton loving reindeer I don't know about?"

The other only rolled his eyes and fixed his attention back at the blond. "Hey, love-cook, where did he say he was going?"

"On these Doctor meetings, I think?" Sanji sipped from the brewing broth and hummed before glanced back at his friends, waiting for confirmation. The orange-haired enthusiastically nodded, giving in between murderous stares at Zoro to seal his babbling mouth tighter. He only tched.

"So, he's meeting that Tora-o, isn't he?" Ace muttered, absentmindedly inspecting the bandages on his arm, before glancing up. "So where is it? I have some things to talk about my former doctor as well."

"No, you would have to throw these ideas out of your head. You can't meet Tora-o and neither Whitebeard," the orange-haired said, lifting her head from away her book. Her gaze pinned on him and his eyes fastened on her in retaliation, and he knew it even _before_ her glossy lips opened—and her mellifluous voice reverberated inside his ears—that this woman was dangerous. He could feel the intensity brewing inside her amber eyes exploding on his skin. Her lips twitched into a smile, almost half smirk, and Ace realised that she was with every fibre of his being _dangerous_ , even if his mind couldn't exactly pinpoint _why._

He shook his head and tried to concentrate—tried to focus—even when he wanted to throw his head into the clouds, into the nothingness of his thoughts and dreams. He wanted to _sleep_ and treat this entire farce as nothing but a _dream_ , as long as it meant he didn't have to feel the burn of her pinning stare. . .

"And why—why can't I?" he asked instead, his voice suddenly strained, and he swallowed the lump creeping inside his throat when her eyes suddenly glistered with warning.

"You don't know? haven't you read the papers on the table? You should know by now that they'll catch you if you go."

 _Catch?_ Ace brows furrowed. Sure, he had left the hospital during his supposed treatment without authorisation, and ushered an angry Grandpa at Law's inability to keep watch over him, and probably gave Marco heaps of troubles for the same reason, but Grandpa always knew Ace could take care of himself. He wouldn't chase after him unless—

His eyes narrowed almost automatically. His gaze redirected at them sharply, silently contemplating whether he had let down his guard. They were friends of Luffy's after all. Surely, not his Luffy— _theirs—_ yet _Luffy_ nonetheless.

To have a little faith in them seemed harmless, but now—since his Grandpa was after him—it didn't seem that they have the best interest for him in mind. That is only, if his Grandpa's _did not_ have the intention to lock him up inside that claustrophobic hospital room again. Ace drove a hand through his hair and blew the air from his cheek. _How complicated could this mess get?_

He tilted his head, his gaze drifting across the room and landing on Usopp. His cheek propped on his hand and from the angle of his face, he seemed to be intently listening to their conversation. Next was Algae, despite having napped so soundly, he seemed alert. The arms across his chest were poised and his shoulders tense. He looked like Grandpa whenever he was simultaneously sleeping and deep in thought.

His gaze shifted at the blond. He was humming a tune, dipping oil into the pan, his black boots rhythmically tapping against the marble floor, but Ace knew his feet were probably itching to land a couple of bruises on his body.

He didn't like this at all. He had left the hospital room in search for freedom, but instead fate snatched him up into a different cage and figured this time a little jump from the window won't earn him his liberty.

He would have to crave it out, through will or by force.

And he would have to start now.

* * *

Nami watched him quietly, she waited moments longer until she loudly slammed her book shut, re-pointing the focus of attention on her but Ace was too busy with his thoughts to notice, and so she sighed internally and called his name, his head shot up and a sceptical pair of eyes fastened on her, and she tried her best to explain the situation to him. She could feel Usopp's panic eyes boring holes into her eyes.

Whilst Ace napped, her friend had told her how _sly_ Ace could be, and honestly, after conversing with him for the last couple of minutes, she didn't find him any better than a temperamental teenaged brat. He was full of holes and openings, not to mention that his thoughts were written across his face, and his emotions mirrored inside his eyes. He was an open-paged book, easy to read and sprawled in front of her eyes, and she intended to exploit him to the fullest.

"The Whitebeards are searching every nook and cranny for you. If you were to meet them now, you would only send them into another frenzy. They still enraged at what happened. And your sudden appearance in front of them days ago did not help the matter." Her smile stretched, strained, and his brows sunk, and with every piece of information his face drew blank like an unpainted canvas, and from the intensity of his eyes, she knew he was soaking every tiny detail he needed into his mind.

She cleared her throat and pinned him another stare. "By now, you should have noticed that your oblivious behaviour does not sit well with them. So, don't make it worse by attempting to meet—"

"But I don't care that. That's not my problem."

"It's your problem," she retorted, his clam, nonchalant voice struck a nerve. Did he not hear a word she said? "It is _you_ in danger. They will tear you apart the moment, they'll see you—"

"Like I said, I don't care."

"Are you listening to me?"

"I just need to meet Whitebeard—"

Her hand slammed on the table, almost out of protest, and the resonating slap bounced in and out of his ears, it sounded painful and yet his fingers were numb; they always, _always_ felt numb, just like the echoes of his mind that couldn't heed to her warnings.

"I'm not asking for permission. Either you tell me, or I'll find him myself."

The orange-haired shook her head, defiantly. Her lips drew into a taunt line, and her angry pair of eyes fixed on Usopp, who spluttered in his drink at the blatant intensity and jumped out of the chair to heed her unvoiced command.

Ace brows drew down, increasingly aware that he was a rabbit surrounded by a pack of wolves. Completely, and openly bared at their animosity. His hands fisted, and his glaring stormy eyes shifted enough to keep the sudden, jerky movements inside his field of vision as boiling defiance bubbled inside the pit of his stomach, and he clenched his teeth tight together and pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, when Usopp burst through the door, newspaper in hand, wildly waved, before he pushed it behind his back and drew his sling shot forward, motioning it around and aiming it at everyone in a jerky fashion, and Ace opted to ignore his shaking legs.

"Like I said, I don't agree with any this! I'm keeping this hostage until y'all change your minds! So do it now! Quickly! I won't hesitate to shoot this!"

The orange-haired woman rolled her eyes, beside her obvious irritation no other response bore through the silence except the crinkling noises coming from the cook as he checked the brew inside the pots. After another queasy glance across the kitchen, Usopp seemed to have realised this as well. The ferocity drained away from him, and he sighed as he, yet again, waved around the stapled papers. "We can't rely on our tactic anymore. You heard what Chopper said. This is not the person we used to know."

"But what else can we do?"

Ace turned his head to stare at the cook, who was now leaning against the counter, arms crossed and his eyes pointedly staring at Usopp. "He might be amnesic right now, but that doesn't change that he is still caused this mess."

"What mess?" Ace asked with furrowed brows. "I haven't done anything to you."

"No, not to us, per se. But your latest decisions were enough to shake up our group dynamic." His hand moved toward his breast pocket, pulling out his favourite pack of cigarette. "You might not have noticed, but we are missing some members—"

"Actually, I did notice. _"_ Ace rebutted, and firmly ignored the surprised expression on the blond's face. He was a breath away from lightening up his cigarette when his head shot up. "There are a bunch of pictures stuck on the wall. I can tell that four are missing. But that has completely nothing to do with me."

"Wrong," the orange-haired corrected, after having secretly sneaked behind a distracted Usopp, and snatched the newspaper from him. He gawked, and she smirked, before she threw it at Ace. He didn't catch it, and watched it fall listlessly at his feet. The heading was written in bold, thick print, and its words did nothing but reaffirm the suspicion gnawing at him for the past minutes.

"The biggest crisis since Whitebeard Inc. was founded," Ace read and thought back at the posters he gazed at which were now blurry in his memories, yet from what little he remembered they were part of the Straw Hats. It had nothing to do with them.

"Read it. You'll see."

Ace glanced at the blond, sceptically, wondering whether the others only wanted to exploit the situation to land him a firm kick on his rear as he bent.

"Read it. You'll understand. Really."

Ace didn't think he would, but the situation was strange enough for him to reconsider. He moved to pick up the paper, and unlike his thoughts determined they did not attack him. He skimmed through the paragraphs, marvelling at the pictures and skipping through the content. It had far less information than the bundles of papers Smoker transacted. He could understand a little why his Grandpa went out of his way to purchase them. But at the same time, it still wasn't explicit how it was remotely connected with the Straw Hats.

Ace flipped the next page, not prepared for the sudden jump of his heart. The goofy expression pictured on the paper was unmistakably Luffy's— _their_ Luffy. His eyes skimmed through the paragraphs and his world made increasingly less sense than it did months ago when he first woke up.

Ace gazed at it uncomprehendingly, and he blinked a couple of time, adjusting and redirecting his focus before his eyes skimmed through the words again, hoping that his brain somehow failed to connect the dots—and yes, it did. Because it didn't make sense at all.

"Ace?"

The call of his name rung distant in his ear, the gears of his minds were clinking, busy spiralling to find its rhythm into the path of his memories, to no avail. The path was blocked, obstructed by a fog that misted over the footwork of his thoughts, and Ace could reach for nothing but a feeling that burned like embers in his chest, a sickening feeling that rolled shivers over his shoulder.

"Ace?"

Slowly, his eyes rose from the paper, landing on a pair of concerned eyes—concerned and hesitant, as if restraining an injured animal that cornered itself in his rage—in its fear. Ace swallowed, the inner walls of his mouth tasted strangely metallic, almost acidic. He could hear it, it was ringing inside his ears, echoing loud inside his mind—

" _ **There he is!"**_

He shut his eyes, counted to ten, and willed those memories away, but he remembered the blood oozing on the streets, the lingering animosity, the grief and anger, and most of all the ear-splitting cries and incessant screams under the stream of shots.

" _ **Just take him and leave us alone!"**_

"Ace!"

There was a grasp on his shoulder, firm and sudden, and his head shot up, his eyes fastened on the eyes of the orange-haired—still concerned, hesitant—and Ace jerked his shoulder away, stumbling back until he hit the counter.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded, numbly. His ears still rung, he could still hear it—hear them—hear their anger—their grief—their hatred. His tongue felt thick in his mouth, and he swallowed, the taste metallic, acidic—

" _Promise me, you'll never listen to a word they say."_

He convulsed before he knew it, his shoulders trembled too much, and his knees shook, weakening until it buckled, and he slid down, sitting on the floor, taking deep breath and calming himself, willed himself not think about _her_. His stomach churned, the bile crept up to his throat and he rolled his head back, closed his eyes and listened to his own heartbeat.

"Where did I go?"

The words rolled out without his consent, but the lingering memories were swarming inside his mind, and he could see the wide sea stretching below him, its wave crashing onto the high red mountain he stood upon, almost as if it's threatening to swallow him whole as the thick visible fog wafted his face. "Where did I crash?"

Ace opened his eyes, crooked his head to look at them, not surprised that he had caught the attention of the entire room. Even Zoro who had been napping so soundly revealed an eye to look at him.

"You crashed on your way to Mariejoise," the orange haired answered, still cautiously.

"I see," his voice was as loud as a pin dropped in silence. "So that's how it was."

"What do you mean?" there was a sharp glint inside her despite the mellow shape of concern glinting inside her eyes as she stared at Ace, questioningly.

"Mary-juice is the capital of those Government officials. There's no way I would go there for no reason."

Usopp shook his head as his eyes fastened on Ace, uncomprehendingly. "But you were offered to become a warlord? One of those crazy individuals that directly get paid by the Government. Why wouldn't you go?"

Ace stared at him and his mouth moved on its own once again, and he wondered whether there was a part of him that wasn't entirely lost within himself when he echoed the phrases he read days ago, its meaning never seemed so clear to him before. "I didn't go there to become a warlord. I promised myself that I'll do whatever to finish what they started."

He remembered it now.

He did it for a reason.

He became a villain for a _specific_ reason.

 _They declared war._

 _And I'm giving it to them._

They stared at him with uncomprehending eyes, but Ace didn't mind. Because he remembered it. The fall of South Blue. The death of his Mama. And this time, Ace couldn't stop himself from divulging into his memories.

Divulging into the shadows of his past.

* * *

 _It was cold. It was dark. It was scary._

 _But Ace was six years old and smart. He knew wailing was utterly useless by now. Knew that crying was just a sign of weakness—a weakness he promised he wouldn't show—didn't dare to show. His mother needed him to be strong now._

"It's time to go, Ace."

 _Ace gnashed his teeth, reeled in the tears as he whizzed by the empty streets. Like steel claws, his fingers clenched on the hand-sewed blanket, forced his legs to run through the powdered air and metallic stenches. His ragged breaths droned out the hysteric screams and the shouts of mercy._

"Don't worry about me. Mama will be fine."

 _He bit his tongue, shut his eyes against the flying sands, surged by the current of the wind, his bare feet splattered on shot tangerines, tripped over wooden bits of broken carts, scratched the dirt and splintered on wood, dripped of blood as he sprinted through hard rocks and scalding ground, past the bloodied limps blasted on the side walk and only ran forward._

"Promise me, you won't look back."

 _The night never rang so hollow, so empty. Ace missed the laughter, the brightness, the theatrical shows with handmade puppets, the street lamps marking the streets and the chirping markets sales in the evening, the peaches and yellow rays of sunlight, the crimson and purple that used to paint the evening sky. The wallows of pain grew quieter, fainter under the storms of machine guns and hollering cries of the state police. Ace knew that sound—knew it so well—they were—they were—_

"Don't think. Just run as far as you can."

 _Ace gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes shut. His will was weak against the fire sizzling in his stomach—the raw anger and the guilt. They were falling, dying and there was nothing he could do. Ace bit his bleeding lips, willed the tears to stay in his eyes as he tripped and fell to the ground._

 _Someone had grabbed his leg. Towed him back._

 _Ace crooked his head, pushed his blue blanket away from his face, sucked in deep a breath, and his bottom lip trembled at the unrecognisable expression on his neighbour's face. The smiles were gone. The kind eyes, vanished. The friendly waves he used greet Ace with were nowhere to be found. Just hard, cold malice._

"Ace, remember—this isn't your fault. You never did anything wrong."

" _There he is!" he cried out and pulled Ace up by the foot. His blanket fell. The blood rushed to his face and Ace failed to blink. Failed to comprehend the sudden animosity from the fallen around him, holding their wounds and glaring at him as though he was the incarnation of their troubles._

" _Just take him and leave us alone!" a woman shouted, her voice shook, thickened of grief, her face tear streaked as she glared with such hatred at him, cradled an unresponsive man closed to her chest, his clothes tattered, and blood oozed from spots his limps were missing._

"Promise me, you'll never listen to a word they say."

" _It's his fault anyway! That monster!"_

" _The devil's blood runs in him!"_

" _Save us from him!"_

 _Ace couldn't breathe. Fat drops of salt water curled into his mouth. His bottom lip shook. His head hurt. His ears rung of rushing blood. But he could hear—hear the thundering footsteps._

 _They were coming._

 _Coming for him._

 _Ace wriggled his leg. But the man didn't let go. Shouted profanities at him. Cried for the police to get here. Ace gnashed his teeth; his small arms were far away from the floor, and the blood continued streaming to his head._

 _Ace moved to grab the others pants and clutched his shirt, not entirely thinking when he bit the fat man's stomach. He heard a scream and a fist collided on his face. His nose cracked. But the fat man dropped him to the ground and nursed his aching stomach even as Ace grabbed his blanket and dash away. The other shouted after him and cursed heavens at him. But Ace didn't care. Only held a hand over his nose as the tears brimmed in his eyes._

 _His legs sprinted towards the other side of town. Towards the port where his father's ship would be—where his mother said he'd be completely safe—Ace halted and thought again, Mama._

 _He turned around, saw the welling smoke shadowing the city, the over towering fire budding from the shelled houses, destroyed and its plastered scattered across the floor, almost like a tombstone for the nameless civilians dying under the rubble and machine fire._

 _A tomb for his dear, dear Mama._

 _Ace's lips quivered but he turned his back to it as he ran—ran as far as he could even as the latch broke, and like a broken dam tears sprouted from his eyes, overflowed his face and stained his shirt like an ongoing stream. Echoes of pain overfilled the fear driven night, resonated of anger and sorrow from each scream that escaped his mouth, fully packed of deep felt guilt for his mother, and hatred for his weakness._

 _For his powerlessness._

 _For his inability to safe his own mother._

 _And hatred for his uselessness against those bad men who knocked their doors down and pointed their weapons at them._

 _His cries rung of pain and embittered anger. But also, relief and gratefulness for his mother. His dear, dear mother._

 _For her strength to safe him—protect him from those men with blazing guns, even with her last breath. For him—_

 _For someone like him._

"Remember, Ace. I will always love you."

 _Ace only cried harder._

* * *

Hollow eyed, Ace stared at the bleeding wall, gazed at the swirls of crimson and fading orange melting together like the flickering flame of a dying candle, its colour resonating the shade of his hometown walloped in flames, in hues of red that mirrored the colour flowing through his vein.

Motionlessly, his hand reached out towards the light bulb glowing at the ceiling, and he stared at the back of his hand before his gaze landing on the stretch of his arm. It was carefully covered in wraps, and he knew it was healing, but it would never disappear, his skin was marred, blemished with cuts and bruises, and for a moment he wondered, what his mother would say to that—if she were to see him now—like this.

 _(She will be disappointed.)_

His lips twitched into a smile. He didn't doubt it.

 _I'm a mess._

 _A monster._

 _A murderer._

He closed his eyes and hummed, a happy tune he heard multiple times from Dogra whenever he hung the laundry on a languid summer day, and he remembered the green leaves swaying in the wind, the breeze of fresh air wafting his face and Dadan's boisterous shouts droning from the living room. His lips tugged down, lopsided with a tinge of sadness.

Ace stood up. The blanket dropped to his ankles as Ace stood up, walking out of the living room and towards the front door. It wasn't locked. The knob turned easily in his hand, opened easily the gates to hell with every step he took into the deserted streets in the middle of nowhere. But nowhere was always a little close to home.

He wandered through the streets, the path seemed ingrained on the soles of his feet as they marched on with a will on their own, the destination set on its mind, and Ace only followed. He had seen the signs on the highway. He knew what laid on the country side at East Blue.

The comforting smell of trees and moss were calming as he wandered through the thick forest, stepped past fallen branches and discoloured leaves, brown and orangey, laying below an empty tree trunk, the bark black and marred, weathered by storms and harsh winds, completely dry and rough against the palm of his hands. He tightened his grip and pushed his foot against the surface, climbing upwards and latching on the wide-space branches until he reached its crown, and glanced around, his eyes fasting onto the pine trees in his vicinity, spoiling his field of vision with their overreaching trunk. Ace sighed and climbed back down, dead leaves crunched under his feet as he looked around and searched for the never-ending trail that lay behind the trees.

Ace knew Dawn Island like the back of his hand, but he was starting to wonder whether he had ever set foot in this forest after all. His brows knitted harshly at the thought he had misread the sign. He drove his hand through his hair and sighed, moving deep into the woods until he moved onto a familiar track with overarching vines and squirrels twirling around the trees. He had finally found Mt. Colubo.

Ace ran, sprinted through the remaining stretch of the way until he burst through a clearing, near a cliff, his gaze landed automatically on the tombstone, the neat square still upheld the scrawl of his mother's name, surrounded by flowers— _chrysanthemums_ to be exact of various shapes and colours. They were his mother's favourite.

His eyes dropped from the epitaph, underneath his mother's maiden name lay the name his scribbled onto the stone with his own seven-year-old hands.

 _Gold D. Ace._

Ace sat down on the grass, gazed straight ahead at his mother's gravestone, wholeheartedly knowing that his life spiralled downwards from the moment the government got wind from his existence and gunned down an entire borough.

He stretched out on his back and gazed at the clear sky above, marvelling at the turn of his life until his eyes grew weary, and sleep took him as the bird chirped on.

* * *

 _When Ace arrived at the port, his father was nowhere to be seen._

 _Ace wiped his swollen eyes and glanced around, still trying to dampen the hiccups under his breath. There was only a ship. Small boat for fishing. Ace climbed over it, wondered how to use a boat when he moved about, on lookout for the anchor when he tripped over something incredibly hard. Ace held back the tears and rubbed a hand over his leg, glaring with pursed lips at whatever it was._

 _There was a man sleeping on the ship, and Ace gasped when his sleep bubble suddenly popped. Ace moved to get away but tripped when the stranger grabbed his leg and pulled him closer._

" _I see, you've found the ship," the voice was surprisingly gentle, and his curious eyes inspected Ace's face, grabbing his cheeks and turning from all side until the man suddenly nodded, satisfied, as he ran a hand over his black beard and descended the young boy to the ground. "We'll be heading right away, Ace. I've got some ratio prepared for you, and you could always use the sea as your toilet as well."_

 _Ace furrowed his brows and narrowed his eyes at him. He had seen the few pictures of his father that his mother was able to save over the years, and one thing was definitely clear. This man was not his father. "Who are you?"_

" _Oh me? I'm surprised you couldn't tell," the man rose the anchor with one strong hand, turned over to look at Ace with lifted eyebrows and twinkling eyes. "I'm Garp. Your Grandpa."_

 _Ace scowled at him and crossed his arms over his chest. This stranger was lying blatantly through his teeth. "I don't have a Grandpa."_

" _Well, you have one now. Let's get along well."_

 _Ace frowned at him, and slowly sneaked back, tied his blanket over his neck as he moved to climb down the fishing boat. There was no way he would stay with a lying creep and risk getting his head chopped off whilst he slept. People couldn't be trusted. Ace had learnt that by now. Had learned that today._

 _He bit his lip, turned away, gazed at the smoke and smouldering fire._

 _Mama._

 _Almost automatically his legs moved towards the edge of the boat._

" _What do you think you're doing!?"_

 _Ace yelped when a fist collided with the back of his head. The man yanked him back and tied him to the mast whilst they embarked from South Blue, leaving behind the roaring flames and weltering smoke that receded into the distance. Ace kept his eyes on it even after it disappeared from his view._

" _Are you hungry?" the man offered him a piece of bread, but Ace only moved his head away. For all he knew it could be poisoned. The man shrugged and swallowed the whole piece by himself, grinning whilst he ate. "Thought it was poisoned, didn't you?"_

 _He drove a hand over Ace's head, and openly ignored the glare the younger shot him with. "Well, if you don't trust me, we could always do this."_

" _Do what?" Ace glared from the mast._

" _Do this," the man nodded and unbound Ace from the mass and looked at him, sternly. "If there's anything on board that you'd think would endanger you, then you have my permission to throw it overboard."_

 _Ace glanced at him sceptical. "Won't you have your stuff on your person?"_

 _The self-proclaimed Grandpa laughed. "Of course, I do! The only weapon I need is my fist," he drove his pinkie in his ear and blew the dust away. "Poison and pistols and are only for weaklings."_

" _And you expect me to trust you?" Ace spat grudgingly, eyeing him suspiciously even as he looked across the boat in search of any objects that may harm him._

" _You don't need to trust me, boy," the man mumbled as he patted Ace's head again. "You only need to survive."_

 _The man's expression was hard for a moment, and Ace didn't understand why. He pulled his blue blanket closer to himself and felt his mother's love and warmth underneath its confine, as he drove his hand over the hand-made stars and crescent moon that twinkling bright above the skylight._

 _Ace reeled in the tears and clambered his mouth shut as he nodded. He needed to be strong now. It was time to be a man._

 _He had to live._

 _For the sake of his mother._


End file.
